In My Life Stuff Happens
by Sparks Diamond
Summary: A seemingly normal teenage girl, bored with life, accidentally gets thrown back in time; right into the life of four very famous lads.
1. What Just Happened?

**A/N: **Well… hey there everyone! I've been thinking about what it would be like to be thrown back in time with The Beatles. And I've toyed with the idea of writing a story about it. I saw that there are many people on here with that idea so I thought I'd try it! Please review! Here goes nothing….

**Disclaimer: **Ok honestly…. Do you think I own ATU or The Beatles? You know I don't so why must I put a disclaimer? Uhh….. Anyway….

**Summary: **A seemingly normal teenage girl, bored with life, accidentally gets thrown back in time; right into the life of four very famous lads.

**In My Life…. Stuff Happens: Chapter 1: What Just Happened?**

I was mad. Hopping mad. What the hell does that even mean, hopping mad? Do you get to the point where you become so mad that you start hopping? Uggh… okay so not the point right now. I am way beyond pissed. Why? I suppress letting out an angry growl/scream as I let the night's events run through my mind.

I was out with my friend- she forced me to go to the mall. And I thought that was fine. I had a few bucks in my pocket and I was dying to finally get another Beatles CD. And that's when it started. My dear, best friend Holly was intent on chasing Mike Darlington, our college's star football quarterback captain person. Lucky me, I was the one she strung along to do so. I was quiet the entire time they talked, quietly minding my own business as we walked along the stores. They didn't seem to notice when I turned into the music store.

Now by that time, I had only one thing on my mind. I stalked to the back of the record store, not caring where Holly and No-Neck were or what they were doing. I saw the CD from afar and when I got to it, I grabbed it quickly like I thought someone was going to steal it. I ran my hand over the cover- _Rubber Soul _- I wanted it for so long now.

"They suck."

I felt my grip on the plastic case harden when I heard the voice. All night, I had been minding my business and here was Mr. No-Neck Quarterback, about to ruin my otherwise peaceful mood. I turned, staring up at him. He looked amused at my growing anger but Holly looked a bit freaked. She knew how worked up I get about the Beatles. I explained many times, it's an obsession- another way of saying, it's a way of life.

"What?" I muttered, staring up at him with my hands on my hips.

"You're really gonna buy that?" Mike asked with a half-smile. I just wanted to smack that smirk off his face.

"Yes. What's wrong with me buying a Beatles CD?"

Mike laughed. "They're crap. What did they sing about besides submarines and sunshine and mushy love songs?"

I swear at that moment, I almost choked on my own spit I was practically sputtering- not being able to form words. Who the hell did this guy think he was? He probably thought Kanye West and Akon were the best musicians in the world. I muttered something to Holly about having to go home and wash my hair, paid for the CD and left the mall. It was a nice night and I was fine walking the twelve blocks back to my house.

I was so pissed off and I was certain people were staring at me as I stomped down the sidewalk. A few moments later, I finally felt myself begin to calm down when I heard thunder rumble across the sky. Thunder and lightning kind of freaks me out so I slapped on my earphones and blasted the music loud enough to be heard on the other side of the planet.

"_She loves you yeah, yeah, yeah. She loves you yeah, yeah, yeah. You think you've lost your love…._"

I walked faster and faster and mentally smacked myself for not bringing a jacket with me as the wind began to pick up. Suddenly there was a huge blast of light a couple of feet in front of me and I fell forward.

Then it was just black.

...

"What do we do with her, then?"

"I don't know. We can't just leave her, can we?"

I heard the voices before I fully came back to the conscious world. If I wasn't half-awake and probably suffering from a blow to the head, I would swear the voices had a Liverpool accent like the Beatles. Hell, one of them even started to sound like them….

_No-stop it! _I told myself. _You're crazy, sure, but you ain't that crazy. This is not one of your crazy dreams…. Wake up, will ya!_

I opened my eyes slowly, blinking at the sudden bright light. Wasn't I walking at night-time….? It didn't matter. As soon as I opened my eyes, I'm almost positive my heart stopped beating. For a few seconds, I felt nothing beating in my chest. You'd think I'd be worried that my heart wasn't working but I was a little preoccupied with staring at the man leaning over me. He had the brown floppy hair that reached his eyes and those really dark, beautiful eyes and that scowl as he peered down at me. I shut my eyes tight.

"_Oh my God…. I've lost it. All that time of reading Beatles books and listening to Beatles songs non-stop and dreaming about them…. I've finally cracked. I'm hearing things, seeing things, I'm…._

"What the bloody hell is the matter with this bird?"

I reluctantly opened my eyes again, really slow. And when the man came into focus again, I almost screamed. But I'm not a screaming-type girl so my throat settled for a strangled gasp/ gurgling noise that made the man wince and look a tiny bit scared. I forced my voice to work and in a weird, squeaky voice I managed to spit out,

"You- you're- J-j-j-ohn Le-le-lennon?"

"Well I'm not Elvis Presley."

I propped myself up on my elbow and stared into the eyes I dreamed of staring into for such a long time. If it had been any other time I would have spewed some witty retort to counter his sarcasm. But I wasn't myself at the moment. I was looking at John Lennon. John. Lennon. The words registered themselves into my brain but they didn't make sense to me. How in sweet bloody hell was I here right now?

"Where am I?" I asked, thankful at least that my voice went back to it's normal level.

"In London," John answered, a bit annoyed that I didn't know that. I rolled my eyes.

"No….. well, that's really cool but…. No…. I meant… what year?"

John, who was kneeling on the ground, looked up at George. I felt my heart stop for a second time. George….? I shook my head. Time to freak out later. I need facts right now. I poked John in the shoulder to get his attention. Inwardly I squealed because I just poked John Lennon but I pushed it aside.

"It's…. 1965," John answered. He looked like he thought I was insane. "Are you- all right?"

I shook my head and lifted myself up from the ground. I noticed my surroundings for the first time since I opened my eyes. I was lying on the ground behind a ramshackle little building. It was a nice day and birds were happily singing in the green-leaved trees. I turned in a circle slowly, taking in everything around me. What were John and George doing at the back of this building with the dumpsters?

"Hello?"

I spun back to face John who had lit a cigarette. He looked so incredibly sexy….. I shook my head. I needed to stay focused. George stood behind him, quietly staring. I was standing with my two favourite Beatles…. And also the ones that were supposed to be dead in my time. I didn't know whether to laugh, cry, barf or pass out. I might even do a combination of all of those. I stood and pointed at them with a slightly shaking finger.

"John Lennon…. George Harrison…." Both nodded at the mention of their name.. "Oh. My. God."

And with that, I saw the ground rush up to meet me and the familiar darkness took over.

...

I felt like I was drifting on a cloud. My bed was so soft and the sunlight coming through the window was really warm on my face. I opened my eyes and they slowly focused on a white ceiling. Wait… wait a second? White ceiling? My ceiling was purple. I bolted upright in the bed- it wasn't my bed and that wasn't my ceiling and this…. wasn't my room. The room was small and cramped. The bed was small but comfortable and there was a night-table next to it. All that was in the room was a plain dresser and a rocking chair. This was not my room but- who's was it?

I swung my legs over the side and stood, stretching. I felt like someone had just thrown me on the bed and left me in an uncomfortable position. I laughed to myself when I remembered in what I was sure was a really crazy Beatles-related dream. I walked out of the room into an unfamiliar hallway and down a set of stairs. When I stepped onto the first floor and rounded the corner, I nearly died. Again.

Sitting in a small, modest living room with dark brown furniture and brick fireplace were none other than the Beatles. The real live fab four. I thought I was crazy for sure now and this was just my own little world. John was sitting on a green chair, leaning back and smoking. Ringo was smoking as well and reading a magazine. George looked at me shyly over a plate of food and Paul was looking at me, intrigued; almost like he had never seen a girl before.

"Umm…." I squeaked. "You. Beatles."

John smirked. "Yes. Us. Beatles." He put out his cigarette in the ashtray on the table and leaned back further in his chair. "So…. Do you mind tellin' us who you are?"

I gulped. Was I really talking to John Lennon? I shook my head and took a tentative step forward. I needed to stay focused or else I would faint again.

"I'm…." I cocked my head to the side for a moment. For the life of me, I couldn't remember my own name. "I'm uhh… uh… Oh… ha… I'm Quinn. Quinn Collins." I looked around, taking in the small little house. "Where are we? Why did you bring me here?"

George spoke up. His voice was soft and I though I detected a small blush in his cheeks. "We found you lying in the alley. We didn't know what to do so we brought you here."

"Are you one of those crazy fan girls?" John asked, his eyes narrowing as he looked me up and down. Self-consciously I put my arms around myself.

"No," I said, shaking my head. "I have no idea how I even got here. I'm from the fut- I mean…. nothing."

John sat forward now. He caught my slip and I inwardly cursed. The others caught it too. Paul was staring at me more intently now.

"What did you say?" Paul asked.

"Nothing?" I offered. It was weak, I know. But did I really want to explain to the Beatles that I was from the future?

John raised his eye brows. "That's bull-shit. You asked me what year it was before. Who doesn't know what year it is?"

I sighed and moved forward, sitting beside Paul. I avoided looking at him though because I know I would start freaking out and screaming because hey…. Paul McCartney was sitting less then 5 centimeters away from me. I took a deep breath and began.

"Ok… so I'm from the future."

There was a few seconds that just hung in the air; no one saying anything. And then…. John laughed. I gave him an annoyed glare.

"What?"

"The future?" John asked, mischievous laughter lighting up his eyes. "Do you know how insane that sounds?"

"I am!" I protested. I gestured to my clothes; a pair of jean shorts and a goddamn Beatles t-shirt! "Hello…. Do you see what I'm wearing?"

For the first time, they all looked at what I was wearing. I can't believe they didn't notice before. Boys can be so stupid sometimes, even if they were the Beatles. Ringo pointed at my shirt.

"It's us!" He said. He was getting a little bit excited and I had to laugh at the smile that was lighting up his face. "Look lads, it's us on a shirt!"

Paul was getting equally excited. " We look quite good, don't we?"

John wasn't convinced though. He was scowling at me. "That doesn't prove anything." God, was he really that freaking stubborn?

"What year are you from?" George asked quietly. At least he was taking a genuine interest.

I took in a deep breath and slowly exhaled. "2010."

There was a collective look of shock that passed over each of their faces. What, did they not believe the world was going to make it to 2010 or something? I prayed that they would believe me. I mean come on, what did they need to believe me, a legal document? LIGHTBULB! I reached into my pocket and pulled out my ID. I showed it to Paul and Ringo leaned over to have a look.

"See?" I said. "Look what it says right there. Born in 1990. What proof do you need?"

Paul studied it and nodded and then threw it to John. He looked it over, carefully turning it over in his hands. George was looking at it too and seemed satisfied. After what seemed like an eternity, John nodded and gave a little smile. I almost melted.

"All right," was all he said.

"All right?" I echoed. I was going into a bit of hysteria now. I think the realization that this wasn't a dream and that I was really with the Beatles was setting in. "All right? I was transported to the 1960's. And I am sitting in a strange living room with the Beatles! I think… this is less than all right. Ok well it's cool and a dream come true but…. " I exhaled, falling back into the couch. "Oh… I'm so confused."

Paul patted my shoulder in an attempt to comfort me. "It's ok, Quinn."

I only answered with a small squeal which was unlike me. Well okay, kind of. I'm still a girl and I'm allowed to squeal when I get excited. We sat there in awkward silence for a few minutes. Ringo was the one to break it.

"How did you get here?" He asked.

I shrugged. "I don't even know. I was walking home from the mall. I was really upset cause this idiot guy said the Beatles- well, you guys- sucked and then it started thundering and I saw this flash in front of me. Then… I woke up here."

John looked a bit offended. "Someone said we sucked?"

I laughed at his reaction. "Yeah. But don't worry. He wouldn't know good music if it hit him in the face."

John seemed to appreciate that and he smiled a bit. I felt the girlie-ness that was surely there somewhere deep inside of me surge. I was freaking out inside. I still couldn't believe it. And whoever said John Lennon wasn't hot, must have never met him in person. That, or they were completely blind and had no taste.

"Okay wait a second," I said. "You guys are famous. Aren't you supposed to be in press conferences and hotel rooms and stuff like that? Why are you in some small little house in London? Am I missing something?"

Paul chuckled beside her. "We're taking a little vacation. We can just stay here and relax for a week. No interviews or record recordings or things like that. Brian rented this little house for us."

"Oh," I said, understanding. "Brian Epstein?"

John crossed his legs and looked a bit curious. "How much do you know about us?"

I had to suppress a laugh. "I'm what you call a Beatles freak. I'm basically obsessed with… well…. You guys. You're music and movies and all that kind of stuff."

"Movies?" George asked. He looked confused. "But we only have the one right now. _A Hard Day's Night_…"

I groaned inside. I mentally made myself promise to be more careful. I couldn't say too much. I have seen and read too many things that clearly say when you get thrown into the past, you shouldn't say too much or else you could ruin the future. I didn't want to risk making a future where the Beatles were different.

"Well I guess you make more then, " I said. Ringo began to ask another question but I cut him off. "No… no more! I don't want to say too much or else I could screw things up!"

John crossed his arms. He looked a bit pouty. "Come on. Don't be like that. You can tell us stuff!"

"Yeah!" agreed Paul. He was getting a bit jumpy. "At least let us ask a few things!"

I sighed and shook my head. I couldn't say no to them. I just couldn't reveal too much. "What- what do you want to know?"

That's all it took. They were at me like a pack of wolves advancing on a deer or something to that effect. I couldn't help but squeal a bit inside. How many hours had I spent dreaming of talking to the Beatles and hanging out with them. And here I was now, sitting with them. It was hard to wrap my mind around.

"Are we still popular in… what is it, 2010?" Paul asked. He was all but jumping in his seat now.

I thought about it a second. "Yeah, I guess you could say that. I mean…. you could safely say that no one will ever top you guys."

"Do we still tour then?" Ringo asked.

"No. It's impossible. I mean they are only two of you left." I gasped and covered my mouth with my hand as soon as the words slipped out. _Shit! _I can't believe I was so stupid.

All four of them looked shocked. I knew I just dropped a bomb but I couldn't-wouldn't say anymore. John looked more freaked out then the other three. I wonder if he somehow knew….

"What do you mean?" George finally said, his voice low. I shook my head.

"No," I said. "I'm not saying anymore. Please…. This might change things and I don't want that!"

Thankfully, the phone rang. I was grateful for whoever was calling at this particular moment. Paul reached over to the small side table and answered the phone.

"Hello? Oh hello Brian…. Yeah…. Okay. Sure. Goodbye."

Paul hung up and looked at the others. "It was Brian. He said we have some photo shoot to do." The other three grumbled.

"Some vacation…." John muttered, standing. His gaze landed on me. He nodded at me while asking, "What do we do with her?"

Was I a dog or something? I didn't need to be babysat. I looked up at John, a bit defiantly. I didn't care who he was because hero or not, I don't like to be talked about while I'm in the room.

"I can take care of myself!" I snapped. I stood and walked over to the window, pushing back the curtains to look outside. It was starting to rain now. After a few seconds, I turned back around. The four were getting ready to leave.

"We'll be back," Paul said as the other three headed for the door. "Just stay here for now, I guess."

_No really, I was about to go and take a walk in 1965 London cause I'm smart like that. _I said nothing out loud though and just nodded. A few minutes later, they were gone.

"Christ," I said, collapsing onto the nearest chair.

I still couldn't believe where I was and what happened to me. I really had time travelled. I laughed to myself….. At least back in my time, my parents were gone for the week and I was home alone. Or else I'd have another problem on my hands.

I leaned back and closed my eyes. This was going to be a long trip. And not one of the acid variety. Oh help me...

**A/N: **Okay so…. I don't know if that was good or not. It was fun to write though and I would like to continue. Please review and tell me what you think! - Addie


	2. Dinner and Other Fun Stuff

**A/N: **Hey everyone! All I can say is wow! Thank you for all the reviews! They are greatly appreciated and make me very happy and excited to continue this story! I like answering each review personally so for all of those people who reviewed anonymously, thank you! I'm posting this today because I won't be back until Sunday. So here we go, without further ado, chapter two!

**Disclaimer: **Honestly? Must I even say it? *sigh* No, I don't own anything to do with Across The Universe or The Beatles.

…

**In My Life….Stuff Happens: Chapter 2: Dinner and Other Fun Stuff**

Click. _Whoosh. _Click. _Whoosh_. Click. _Whoosh. _Click. _Whoosh. _

I wasn't sure how long I was sitting on the couch for, flicking the Zippo lighter I found on the table on and off. It was pitiful. Was I that bored that I had to resort to a lighter to amuse me? Dear God, I must actually be loosing it. I threw the sleek silver lighter back on the table and looked at the clock above the fireplace.

4:55 PM.

"Bastard," I muttered at it and turned away, twisting my body around to lie down on the couch. My head was on one arm and my toes hardly reached the other one. Damn, I was so freaking short.

I closed my eyes and I was drifting into sleep peacefully, the quiet room being really tranquil. I was drifting and drifting, feeling so nice and calm and…

_BRRINNNNGGGG!_

"AHH!" I screamed and jumped, falling off the couch in the process. I looked around wildly for a second; being half-awake made me confused and I didn't know what was happening. After a few more seconds, I realized it was the phone shrilly ringing like a screaming banshee and I grabbed it just to shut it up. "What?" I growled into the receiver.

I was greeted with a laugh. "Well aren't we happy?" I felt myself soften a little.

"Oh… uh… hi Paul," I muttered, my heart racing for other reasons now. I twisted myself from the phone cord that somehow wrapped itself around my arm and sat back on the couch. I rubbed my leg where it had connected with in the table during my not-so-graceful fall.

"Just decided to give you a ring," came his cheerful voice. I had to smile a little. "Me and the lads'll be back soon. We- what? Hold on." I could hear him put the receiver away from himself and talk to someone else. He came back a few seconds later. "Oh- uh- John wants to speak to you."

"Umm.. Ok," I said. My heart began racing as soon as he came on. Damn, sometimes I could be such a girl!

"Miss me?" John asked. I could practically see the grin on his face. I forced myself not to sound all crushy and girlie and lovey-dovey.

"What can I help you with, John?" I asked coolly. Part of me couldn't believe I was talking so nonchalantly with him. But the irritated and bored part of me that had been sitting alone in this small house for nearly five hours got the better of me.

"We've decided to buy you some clothes," John said. He had taken on a posh accent and was stifling a few chuckles. "What do you prefer, my dear?"

I shook my head but it was becoming harder not to smile. "Well some pants would be nice. Running shoes wouldn't hurt."

John laughed and it sounded funny through the receiver. "Girls don't dress like that," he said.

"What the hell do you mean 'girls don't dress like that'?" I screeched through the receiver, my voice rising a few octaves. "I've seen thousands of movies and pictures where girls in this time were wearing pants so don't give me that!"

Again, that damn laugh. "It doesn't matter, then. We'll be back soon. Don't go burning down the house, now." I heard another laugh and then the line went dead. I slammed the receiver down, albeit a little too harshly.

Who knew John could be so infuriating sometimes? Okay so I admit, I got a bit testy and practically yelled his ear off for no reason. But that's just me- I reckon I got a little bit of feminism in me and I can get a bit angry when people- men especially- say or do things that restrict women from doing what men can do. But, I reminded myself- I was in the 1960's where women's rights were just getting together so I decided to calm down a bit.

But if John came back with a dress for me to wear…. Ugh…. I would tackle him to the ground. And not in a fun way either…. (Get your minds out of the gutter, people!)

"OH GOD I AM SO BORED!" I screamed out loud and thumped my hand down on the table in front of me and then immediately screamed. I had smashed my hand down on the remote control for the television. The TV turned on when I hit the remote and the familiar music floating through the room got me to ignore my pain for a moment.

"_It's been a hard day's night and I've been working like a dog. It's been a hard day's night…."_

I squealed with delight when I saw the Beatles running from a pack of girls on the screen. It was just my luck to turn on the TV in 1965 and find _A Hard Day's Night _playing. I shrugged and made myself comfortable. What's better than watching the Beatles on TV while I waited for the Beatles to come back home? Ahh… sometimes life can be that good.

…

"_Oh by all means, I'd be quite prepared for that eventuality."_

"Why the hell are you watching that?"

I jumped five feet in the air and turned to look behind me. The four boys were standing there, watching me watch them on TV. Quickly, I grabbed the remote and shut it off. John was staring at me with that well-known Lennon smirk and he held a few bags in his hands. The others were standing behind him and for some reason George and Ringo were having a playful hitting fight. I shrugged.

"I pressed the 'on' button and that's what was on," I offered as an explanation. "So I decided to watch it. Do you mind?" I turned my attention to the bright yellow bags in John's hands. "What did you get?"

John jumped over the couch and landed next to me and Paul did the same. I hoped I wasn't smiling like an idiot at that moment. John handed me the first bag and I slowly pulled out a pink mini-dress. I think I must have made some sort of a face because Paul retracted a bit.

"A dress? A pink dress? Oh you gotta be fucking kidding me!" I said, stuffing the dress back in the bag. There were another four in there, all the same just in green, blue, purple and orange. I threw it back to John. "Next?"

John smirked, said nothing and handed me the second yellow bag. This one had two boxes and I yanked them out forcefully. I was still a bit pissed at the dresses. In the first box was a pair of black sandal-type shoes that weren't too horrible. I grabbed the next box and ripped the lid off. Lying there in the nice white tissue paper were flat black running shoes with a red stripes. I felt the smile creep across my face.

"You like that then?" Paul asked, looking over my shoulder. I nodded and he looked a bit relieved.

_Great, they think I'm a tad bit insane. _A giant crash caught our attention and we turned to see George and Ringo lying on the floor. They had knocked over a lamp in their fighting and were now laughing on the floor. This was just way beyond awesome.

"Here," John said and I turned just in time to catch the last bag which he threw at me. I stuck my hand inside and pulled out two pairs of jeans and a couple of plain t-shirts. I couldn't help myself, I reached out and hugged him. "Whoa… easy there! If I knew it was this easy to get a girl to jump you, I'd buy out the whole store!"

"Ughh!" I said, letting go of him and leaning back into the couch. "Pig!"

John pretended to look offended and held a hand to his heart. "I thought you liked me."

"Who said I liked you?"

"I found this on the floor upstairs," he said, taking a small round object from his pocket and showing it to me. It was the button I was wearing the other day. It must have fallen off when I woke up and came down the stairs. It had a picture of him on it and it said: _'Lennon, the sexy Beatle.' _I immediately looked embarrassed and snatched it from his hand.

"Shut-up," I said, looking away from that grin. I cleared my throat and focused my attention on George and Ringo who were laughing and coming to sit down, both out of breath and holding each other's arms. So this is what it was like in the early days of the Beatles?

"We're gonna be late!" Paul suddenly said, springing up from the couch and running towards the stairs without another word. George and Ringo followed suit and suddenly I was alone with John.

_Here we go._

Finally I turned to him. He wasn't grinning but instead making that lustful face that made me think he was undressing me with his eyes. I didn't know whether to swoon and giggle or slap him. I settled for a stone-faced look and narrowed my eyes at him.

"What are you staring at, Lennon?"

His grin grew wider. Was that even possible? He put on a fake girlie voice. "John Lennon…. The sexy Beatle… ahh…."

I growled in a most un-girlish way and smacked his arm. He laughed and smacked me back. I couldn't help but laugh as we proceeded to get into a smack fight. I don't know how it happened, but we somehow landed on the floor, him on top of me, holding my hands.

"Give up?" he asked, the mischievous look twinkling in his eyes. I squirmed and laughed and shook my head. "No?" I shook my head again and to my utter surprise, he leaned down and kissed me. He burst out laughing when he saw the look on my face. "Well…. How about now?"

"Uhh….mm…wha…" I mumbled, forgetting how to form words. My head was swimming and my stomach was going crazy like there were ten thousand butterflies moving about. Did what I think happened just happen? Because if what I though happened did just happen then I would need to be rushed to the nearest hospital to have my heart restarted.

"How's that for the sexy Beatle?" John said, standing and lifting me up with him. I could do nothing but numbly stare. "Better get dressed. Paul was right…. We'll be late!" And with that, he skipped off (yes, he skipped off) and ran up the stairs to get ready.

I collapsed back onto the couch.

"Whoa."

I really think I died this time.

…

All right so I didn't die, sue me.

The restaurant we went to was a small little Italian place that also happened to be completely empty except for me and the Beatles. Turns out, they rented out the whole place for the night which in my opinion was pretty smart. For one, they'd have no fans bothering them and no one would know about the strange girl hanging out with them. Thank you, but I did not want that kind of fame.

I was a tiny bit pissed off still because I was practically forced to wear one of the dresses the guys bought me. I had originally put on a pair of jeans and a white t-shirt but they wouldn't let me out of the house. So much to my chagrin, I put on the stupid purple dress and black sandals and followed them out to the car in which the chauffeur drove us to the little restaurant.

The cute little place was called _Antonio's _and could basically be described as a little hole in the wall type place. I thought it was cute and kind of homey. The place had red walls with paintings hung all over them and the whole little place consisted of booths and tables with red chairs and red and white chequered table cloths. Because I was the only lady, they let me pick the table and I settled for the table in the middle of the restaurant. John, to my utter surprise, pulled out my chair for me and bowed like some obedient waiter in a posh place.

"What's good to eat?" I asked, picking up the small red menu and flipping through it. "Ooh I want spaghetti and meatballs! No…. pizza! Oh my God…. Wait, can I have both?" _I mean hey, they're rich- they were the goddamn Beatles weren't they?_

"You're gonna eat all that?" George asked tentatively. He looked a little shocked. I guess the girls in the '60s ate like dainty little birds.

I nodded and took a sip of the coke I had ordered before. "I like to eat." I turned to John who was just about to say something and pointed a finger at him. "If you say any stupid remark about me being fat or anything like that, I will hurt you."

John shut his mouth just as fast as he opened it but then burst into laughter a few seconds later. Paul followed, then George, then Ringo and then I finally broke and we all shared a good laugh. John pointed a finger at me, laughing and nodding his head appreciatively. I smiled back, not believing that I was getting a look of respect from John Lennon. Considering the amount of times I "died" since I've been in 1965, I must have about 17 thousand lives.

"What?" I asked when he didn't say anything. He was still smiling and pointing his finger at me.

"You're a strange one," John said and I scoffed.

"Great. All I wanted in life was to meet John Lennon and have him tell me I'm strange."

John shook his head, keeping the smile. "No. I mean different. Most birds are nutty about eating a little and most girls I know don't say 'fuck.' "

I smiled. _John Lennon thinks I'm cool, John Lennon thinks I'm cool…. _I mentally smacked myself. _Ok shut up, you're not five._

"Thanks, I guess," I said, more than sure I was blushing a little. "What can I say… future girls are different."

The two burly waiters dressed in white uniforms brought us our food and we dug in like people who hadn't eaten in a week. I wonder if this restaurant existed in 2010 because this food was damn good. Not that it matters though because I live in Canada- when the heck was I going to travel to London for some Italian food?

"So," Ringo said, taking a sip of his beer, "tell us some more stuff about the future."

_Oh God. Not again. Are they for real? What in the hell was I going to tell them? Oh sorry John, some crazy man murders you outside your house in 1980. Oh yeah, George, by the way, you're gonna get cancer and die before you hit 60. Did you hear about Beatles rockband? And the remastered CD collection? Hey, while I'm here, why don't I give you a rundown of the next five years of your career?_

I couldn't say that. I couldn't tell them anything that could compromise their future and possibly change history. As much as it was killing me inside to tell John to be careful and not go out the day he was shot, I just couldn't tell them. But one look at their eager faces tugged at my heart and I had to say something. I just had to be careful and skirt around the important stuff I couldn't know about their own history.

"All right," I said, sighing as I put my fork down on the table and leaned back in my chair. "What do you want to know?"

"Well," said Paul. "Tell us about yourself first. You know, how old you are and where you live."

"And why you love us so much," John added with that grin I was becoming used to.

I stuck my tongue out at him and began. "Well…. I'm 19. I'm going to be 20 later in the year. Well- in the 2010 year…. Anyway- I live in Canada and I go to college. It's pretty fun there. I live at home with my parents and… yeah…. I don't know what else. Usually at this point when describing myself, I'd add, I'm a Beatles freak and they are my favourite band and I live in the past and so on and so forth. "

"You live in the past?" George asked. "What do you mean?" He had such an earnest look to him- like a sweet puppy dog. He was so cute!

I laughed. "Well…. Before coming here…. Where I'm actually living in the past, I basically just listened to all the old music. Buddy Holly, Eddie Cochran, you guys, Elvis and all those people. That's me- I'm kinda like an oldies rocker-hippie."

They all nodded and muttered their "wows" and "fab's". John looked especially intrigued, just as I knew he would. They had actually lived in the '50s where this music was popular and they were the band making the music that I loved so much. It was weird but it was also an indescribable kind of cool. I wouldn't- couldn't- ask for anything better than this.

"What else?" I asked, eager to move on the conversation. I could only take so much staring from them before I got a little creeped out.

"What do you love about us so much?" John asked. He had that smirk dancing on his lips but the question was genuine.

I sighed. "Honestly- it's kind of weird to talk about my love for the Beatles when I'm sitting with them. "

"Come on," John pleaded. I had to laugh. He was pouting again.

"Okay, okay," I agreed. _I guess it wouldn't hurt to obsess about the Beatles to people who would actually care. _"Umm well…. You're music is amazing. It's pure and true and actually music. The stuff you sing about means something and they way you sing it is unique. I think it's safe to say that you guys are the greatest band of all time. Even after you guys were over….." I saw the looks on their faces and quickly added, "I'm not going to tell you when that is but it isn't any time soon. Anyway, even after the Beatles ended, you guys still remained great. And you," I said, turning to John. "You are just amazing. I can't put in to words what you mean to me and to the world. You will do some great things and you will be an awesome person. Despite how sometimes you can be an asshole and the times where you will be an asshole…. It doesn't matter. You guys are incredible and you always will be. Nothing will ever change that. I'm just glad I'm a Beatles fan because honestly- there's nothing better."

It was completely silent for at least a minute after I was finished. And I mean the hearing-a-pin drop-on-the-floor- kind of silent. I didn't even know I felt that strongly and I had never described it like I had just did. I even had tears in my eyes and shivers going up and down my spine. All four of them looked pretty much as shocked as I felt. Paul was softly smiling, George was sitting there all pensive and Ringo was smiling brightly. John- he just looked serious. But after a few seconds, I cleared my throat and smiled.

"Jeez guys…you don't have to get all sad and stuff," I said. "I just… well I just think you guys are great."

For the rest of the meal, it was pretty much fun. We all just laughed and had a good time and I answered weird and frivolous questions about the future and about them and what I liked and just fun stuff like that. I think it was nearly midnight when we left the restaurant and headed back for the small house. I was happy but not so tired so when the other went to sleep, I went and sat out on the back porch. It was a nice night and the stars looked beautiful.

It wasn't long before someone joined me.

"Too excited to sleep are we?"

I turned and smiled immediately when I saw John leaning against the door frame. He was wearing a pair of long-johns and an undershirt. Okay, now I know he was doing it just to drive me insane. He walked past where I was sitting and leaned against the railing, looking out before him. After a few seconds, he turned and lit a cigarette. He looked so serious, do deep and tortured. I think I knew what he was going to say before he said it.

"Is it me?" He asked suddenly. He sounded so low and quiet, I wasn't sure if he had actually spoken. "That dies I mean. It's me, isn't it?"

I felt like someone had just ripped my heart out of my chest. Just looking at his face and thinking about what was going to happen to him- I couldn't speak. And somehow he knew. I knew it because I could see it in his face, in his eyes. John knew deep down that he wasn't going to live a long life and it killed me inside; even more than the countless times I thought about John's death. And even though he knew now, I swore to myself I wasn't going to tell him anymore. I couldn't do that to him.

"Yes," I whispered and he nodded as if confirming what he knew all along. I sniffled, letting the tears escape my eyes and fall down my cheeks. He looked at me.

"Why are you crying?" He snapped, sounding a bit irritated now. He came and kneeled before me, grabbing my hands and holding them away from my face. "What do you have to be upset about? It's me who's gonna die!"

I shook my head, not being able to stop the tears. "John…. I don't want you to die. I wish you never. Everyone who loves you- your fans- no one wanted you to die! It's not fair! And seeing you now…. I can't…. it's just not fair!"

John sneered, his face contorting in anger and pain. "You don't want me to die? I don't want to die!" He roughly let go of my wrists and stood, staring up at sky.

I felt horrible. I knew he would die but I didn't want him to know. If I had been able to keep my stupid mouth shut, he would be happily oblivious. _Oh God, _I suddenly thought. _I just gave him a complex or something. I just made him more insecure and crazy and stuff. Oh good going, Quinn. _

But when he turned back around again, the anger and pain was gone from his face. He had an emotionless expression and just shrugged it off like we had been talking about something that wasn't so important. The Lennon wall had gone up. I wasn't about to push it. I was a bit surprised when he sat down next to me on the bench I was sitting on. I wiped the runaway tears from my face and turned my head to look at him.

"I'm sorry-"

"No," he said, cutting me off. "It's fine. We all gotta die sometime don't we? Let's just leave it at that."

I nodded. I was glad to drop it. "Hey John," I said. He looked into my eyes. "Umm… I'm sorry. About- everything that happened to you in your life. You know, with your mother and…. Stuart…. all of it," He visibly cringed but he didn't scream and blow up at me like I thought he would. He just nodded like he understood and looked away.

"So…." I said, trying to lighten the mood and ease the tension you could so easily cut with a knife. "You are a man-whore aren't you?"

His head snapped up and he peered at me with the strangest amused expression on his face. "A what?" he asked incredulously.

"A man-whore," I repeated, laughing at his bewildered expression. "You kissed me, John! As much as that made me die inside and still does make me die inside when I think about it…. It's borderline creepy!"

"Why?" he asked laughing. I loved that damn drool-worthy grin!

"Oh I don't know….. Maybe 'cause you're oh…. 50 years older than me….."

"What do you mean?" he asked with an innocent puppy dog face. "I thought you said you were 19. I'm only 24.…"

"Shut-up!" I said, swatting his arm. "It may be like that now but remember…. I'm not born yet! And also by the time I'm born you're already…. old."

John smirked and stretched. "I thought you said you were in love with me. You know, I'm your hero and things much to that effect."

"Ughh!" I said, groaning. "You know…. In my time, I'm all like 'Oh John Lennon…. He's is hot, I love him, I wish I could meet him. Oh John Lennon….' But now…. Ughh… I just want to fuckin' smack you!"

John just laughed again and I stood, stomping my way to the door. Before I went inside, I turned to look back to him.

"You know you want me," he said with a mischievous grin. _Uggh asshole._

"Oh fuck off, John Lennon!" I said and stormed my way inside. I could hear his laughter following me all the way up the stairs.

I closed the door to what was now my room and collapsed onto what was now my bed. As I stared up into the darkness, I wondered what I was going to do. As much as I would like to, I couldn't stay here forever, hanging out with the Beatles. Perhaps tomorrow will being answers.

Then again, tomorrow never knows.

…

**A/N: **All right…. Wow…. Done the second chapter in one day! I've never written a story so fast in my life. Well, I wanted to post this chapter before I go on the retreat I'm going on until Sunday. I love writing this story and I am beyond ecstatic that you guys like it too! Thank you so much for reviewing and please review again! Thanks! -Addie


	3. Thunderstorms and Revelations

**A/N: **Well hello there all my wonderful reviewers! Do you know how great you all are and how awesome you make me feel with your reviews? So I just want to say thank you to each and every one of you! An extended thank you to Xo-Chan who gave me an idea for this chapter. I know it's been a few days but I was on a retreat which my church so I couldn't write. But I'm back now with an brand new chapter! I hope you all like it! Oh and a bit of news that's excited me…. I GOT TICKETS TO SEE PAUL! YAY! :D Ok…. Anyway, here is chapter three!

**Disclaimer: **What would happen if I actually said I owned it all? No I don't own anything.

…

**In My Life….Stuff Happens: Chapter 3: Thunderstorms and Revelations **

I felt like I was floating down a river , or rather floating above a river. The sun was shining down and there was not one cloud in the sky; it was absolutely beautiful. When I reached what I thought to be the end, I stopped and found myself sitting under a huge tree. And off in the distance I saw a man coming towards me and even though I couldn't even make him out, I was intrigued. Suddenly he began to walk closer and I was getting anxious; for some reason I felt like I needed to talk to him.

A sudden weight landed on me and everything was ripped away. My eyes snapped open and I looked around wildly. When my eyes landed on the source of the weight I felt on me, I narrowed my eyes and half-growled.

"John. Why are you sitting on me?"

"I was told to wake you up," he replied with a huge grin. I was lying on my back and he was sitting on my legs, restricting me from moving.

"And you're idea of waking someone up is sitting on them?" I asked, incredulously. Then I remembered that I once saw this picture of John in bed and the others sitting on him. Weird ones, they were.

"Yup," John said. He jumped up a little and I let out a small grunt. "Damn it, Lennon! Get off me, you're so fucking heavy!"

John laughed. He wiggled around for a few seconds and then finally got off me. I threw back the covers and got out of the bed, standing in front of him and looking up into his face. I had my hands on my hips and what I was sure was an angry scowl on my face. It only seemed to amuse him though because he still hadn't lost his grin. I noticed at that moment that John was really tall. Ok so technically everyone is tall to me because I was only 4'11 but damn, he was _really _tall. He must have noticed it too.

"You're short," he said and left the room.

I had to laugh because of the randomness. I shook my head though as I began to get dressed, this time in jeans and a black t-shirt. I was not about to put on a dress just to sit in the house. I suspected we weren't going to leave the house today anyway because there was a raging thunderstorm outside.

After taking a quick detour into the small bathroom, I bounded down the stairs with more energy than I usually have. I skipped a step by accident and a scream escaped my throat as I fell forward- right into the arms of Paul. I thanked God that he had been there at the right moment. He put me down, smiling down at me in amusement.

"You ok, darlin'?" Paul asked, steadying me with his hand on my shoulder. I suppressed a squeal.

"I'm fine. Thanks Paul," I said with a nod. I was getting used to seeing the Beatles now and I was starting to be able to speak to them without squealing.

"Coming into the kitchen then?" he asked, starting to walk forward. I followed.

"Where's everyone?" I asked, stretching as we walked across the living room into the kitchen. John was sitting at the table, massacring a piece of toast with his butter knife. He looked up, smiled a greeting and went back to killing his breakfast.

"George and Ringo left this morning," Paul explained, going into the small refrigerator and taking out some juice and more toast. "They wanted to go check out a new music store that just opened up. Me and John already saw it and we didn't want to leave you alone." He handed me a glass of orange juice and I sipped it. "What'cha want to eat?"

I shrugged. "Toast'll be fine. Unless you got some bacon. I'm kinda hungry this morning."

"You're always hungry," John muttered under his breath. I grabbed a book from the counter and threw it at him, hitting him in the back. He just laughed.

"You go fuck yourself, John," I said without turning around. I never imagined that I'd ever tell John Lennon to fuck off, let alone a few times. It was weird but strangely cool in a way.

Meanwhile, Paul had found the bacon and was busy opening up the package. A few minutes later, he was frying it up on the stove like a pro chef. I laughed inwardly. Who knew the Beatles could so easily and expertly cook for themselves. They were pretty famous by this time and yet, they were spending a week alone in a small house, fending for themselves. And me, apparently.

I had been in 1965 with the Beatles for two days already. If I didn't try and do something soon- at least try to figure out a way to get back to my own time, I'd be stuck here forever. Now, of course, a normal person obsessed with the Beatles wouldn't mind it but I did have a family and friends who would know I was gone. I didn't want to hang around in 1965 if it meant becoming a missing person in 2010.

"Hello?"

I snapped back into reality when I heard Paul's voice calling me. He had been waving his hand in front of my face for a few minutes it seemed as was beginning to look worried at my non-answering. I smiled at him to assure him that I wasn't a crazy person who stared into space all the time. He looked slightly relieved and he slid the plate of bacon and toast in front of me.

"Why thank you," I said with a big smile. I stuffed a whole piece of bacon in my mouth and immediately made a happy noise. It was so damn good- almost the best bacon I've ever had in my life.

Paul busied himself making his own breakfast as I ate my own amazingly good one. John got up and kind of brushed me as he walked by. I tried avoiding his gaze because I knew he was just doing it to annoy me. I noticed he had been doing that ever since he found out he was my favourite Beatle. Honestly, he could be so childish sometimes. Okay so he was hot and I was practically in love with him but- he could be so damn annoying!

"I'll be back," John announced and left the kitchen. I was alone with Paul. He was what I considered to be the cheery, happy Beatle. He always seemed so happy and was never without a smile on his face. Not to mention the fact that he was pretty darn cute.

Paul sat across from me with his breakfast and ate. I had already finished mine so I just sat there, watching him. He took a bite of his toast and then looked up at me. He was silent for a few moments as if thinking about what to say. Then he put down his toast and leaned back a bit in his chair.

"So- what am I like in the future?"

I chuckled. "I don't know you personally."

Paul smiled at that. "I know. But- I want to know what I'm like. You know, what I do. And I know you don't want to say too much but I'm curious! Come on," he said, leaning forward with a smile. "I won't tell anyone."

I sighed and ate another piece of bacon. These guys would never give it a rest, no matter what I did or said. Even if I tried to ignore them, they'd still pester me with endless questions. I might as well give them the Beatles biography book I had in my bag upstairs. I gasped just then, the light bulb going off.

"Hold on, Paul," I said as I practically jumped off the stool. "I will be right back," I called to him as I ran out the kitchen door and up the stairs.

I hoped I wouldn't find what I thought I would find. It would just complicate matters that much more. As I reached the second floor, I saw that my bedroom door was closed. That was my first clue. When I came down to breakfast, I had left the door open. I took a breath and pushed open the door. And there he was. John sat on my bed; the contents of my backpack spread around him.

_What a nosey little bastard!_

I cleared my throat and he looked up, suddenly looking like a guilty little boy who had been caught doing something wrong. It would have made me laugh any other day to see John Lennon make that face but I was pissed that he was going through my things. I stalked up to him and grabbed his arm, pulling him off the bed.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" I half-yelled. I was standing there with my hand on my hips. His grin was starting to piss me off royally. "You don't just go through people's things!" _Especially when they contain things about you that you can't know, _I silently added.

John was practically laughing right in my face. I can't believe that I was even thinking this but I actually wanted to kick him where it hurts. I had to restrain myself from doing so by reminding myself that John Lennon was my idol and that I didn't want to hurt him.

_My ass. _

I was this close to throwing him out the second floor window. And trust me, John Lennon or not, I would do it.

"I was just having a look," he offered as an explanation. His sheepish smile grew into a grin as he saw how angry I had become. "What? You just show up here-from the future! I think I'm allowed to look around."

"NO!" I practically screamed, smacking his arm. "You just don't do that. There are thins you can't see yet, things that have information about you! Honestly, John!"

He was silent for a few seconds before holding up the _Rubber Soul _CD I had bought at the mall. I swear that at that moment, my eyes literally bugged out of my head for a few seconds. I snatched CD away from him quickly and threw it back on the bed.

"A new record of ours?" he asked. He peered over my shoulder at the CD. "Have records become smaller?"

"That's a CD and it's the not the point right now," I snapped. I inhaled deeply and then slowly exhaled. "How long were you looking at it?"

John shrugged. "Just enough to see the song titles. Interesting. I wonder when we right those." He thought a moment. "Why the title, _Rubber Soul_?"

I shook my head. "No more, John. I am not going to tell you any more."

"Oh like how I get murdered?"

I gasped so loud and my heart lurched forward in my chest; so hard that I thought it would break out and land on the floor. I felt the shock throughout my entire body and I had to grab onto the bed post for support. I looked up at John. He didn't look sad or upset- but weird.

"John….you didn't," was all I could say. No other words could escape my lips at that moment.

"I did," he answered, nodding his head slowly. "I saw the book and I was looking through it. So- looks like I do get popped off in the end, don't I?"

I said nothing. I couldn't believe we were having this conversation. And I couldn't believe he was taking it so well. Did he really already know in his heart that he was going to die young and even how he was going to die? It was another concept I couldn't wrap my head around. I sighed and sat down on the edge of my bed, tentatively looking up at him. I still couldn't bring myself to say something-anything.

"I didn't get a chance to find out when or how. It just said _'John Lennon, murdered.' _A bit vague," he said, cocking his head to the side. The way that this seemed not to bother him was unnerving for me. "I don't supposed you'll let me have a look."

"You shouldn't know this," I whispered. I couldn't hold in the tears. He didn't get mad though like the first time we spoke about this on the porch.

"No, no," he said, shaking his head. "Don't worry about it. I don't care. Just… stay here. I will be right back."

He ran from the room suddenly and before I could utter a word, he was back with his guitar in hand. He sat on the chair near my bed and set the guitar up on his knee. I wondered what he was doing. But the idea of John Lennon actually, physically singing to me was making me want to jump up and down. But I didn't- obviously.

"I want you to hear this song I wrote," he said. "It was something I wrote last night. You might say you inspired it."

_Oh dear, what song did I inspire? _

I sat, waiting as he began to play. After a few moments, he began to strum the guitar and the familiar tune began to flow through the room. My heart warmed and I nearly cried. His voice sounded so amazing when he sang.

'_I get high when I see you go by_

_My oh my_

_When you sigh, my, my inside just flies_

_Butterflies_

_Why am I so shy when I'm beside you?_

_It's only love and that is all_

_Why should I feel the way I do?_

_It's only love, and that is all_

_But it's so hard loving you_

_Is it right that you and I should fight every night?_

_Just the sight of you makes nighttime bright_

_Very bright_

_Haven't I the right to make it up girl?_

_It's only love and that is all_

_Why should I feel the way I do?_

_It's only love, and that is all_

_But it's so hard loving you _

_Yes it's so hard loving you, loving you'_

When he finally finished, he lay the guitar across his lap and looked up at me as if waiting for my approval. I was speechless for a few moments. I was just so touched that I couldn't get myself to form any recognizable words. It didn't even bother me that I changed some piece of history by inspiring a song that he had written under other circumstances. But as long as he wrote it for the same album he should be fine, right?

"Well?" he finally asked when I didn't answer. I finally got myself to nod. There were tears of joyful appreciation falling down my face.

"Yeah," I said, nodding. "That was- beautiful. It was so amazing. I mean, I have heard it before but hearing it now…. Just too amazing. Th-thank you, John."

He nodded, and I though I detected a bit of red in his cheeks. John Lennon embarrassed? Really? That was something to see.

"I'm glad you like it," He said, taking back that gruff, tough-guy voice. "It was just something I wrote." He cocked his head to the side. "What album is it gonna go on?"

I shook my head and stood. "Nice try, Lennon. I'm not telling you anymore. And I'm hiding this book so you can't read anymore."

"Aww come on," he said. He put his guitar on the floor and grabbed my arm, pulling me towards him. He must have pulled a little too hard because I landed on his lap. I almost died. Oh there I go again with the dying. "At least let me read some things…."

"No," I said firmly and stood. I pushed him back a little. "You cannot know anymore. I do not want to hear one more question from any of you Beatles. Got it?"

John laughed but nodded his head and I turned to leave. As I walked out the door I called over my shoulder, "I'm going for a walk, I will be back later."

Before either of them could try and stop me, I was out the door, down the stone steps and walking on the sidewalk. I immediately wanted to smack myself. It was pouring buckets and I heard thunder rumbling in the distance. Luckily, I saw a bus and I got on it quickly, paying with some money the boys had given me the day before. I rode the bus through the streets of 1965 London, taking in the scenery around me. I knew I shouldn't have left but I needed to leave the house and have some time to myself. I just hoped I'd be able to find my way back.

…

**(John POV)**

I lied to Quinn.

I was damn shaken when I read that I would be murdered. I didn't want to know things like this but I'm sure it's my fucking big mouth that led me to find it out. At least I played her a song and that seemed to lift her mood. I still had a hard enough time wrapping my head around the fact that she was from the future. She knew everything about me- everything about the Beatles. I'd be damned if I didn't find out any answers from her.

I was going to chase her when she left but before I made it out the door, she had climbed onto a bus. I cursed to myself as I shut the front door. I hoped she'd be all right and would be able to find her away home. I promised myself that if she wasn't back in two hours, I'd go out myself and look for her.

"What'cha doing, John?"

I turned around suddenly. Paul was standing behind me, leaning against the banister of the stairs. I just shrugged. No need in telling Paul that I was looking after Quinn. I didn't want him to start bothering me about it.

"Nothing," I said. I began walking toward the living room to find my cigarettes. "Oh…. By the way…. I wrote another song."

Paul looked interested. "Did you? I did too. What's yours called?"

_Of course he did. Uggh…. Sometimes I felt like I was in constant competition with Paul. I didn't want him to be better than me._

I felt myself stiffen a bit. "It's called '_It's Only Love_'," I said. "How about yours?"

"I don't know. The working title is '_Scrambled Eggs'_."

…

**(Quinn POV)**

I was wet and cold but at least I was inside. After I rode to the last stop on the bus, I found this small little record store. It was like heaven on earth for me. I wondered what would happen if I bought some and took them back to the future with me. That would be all kinds of awesome. I was reading the back of an Eddie Cochran record when I suddenly heard my name being called.

"Quinn!"

First I thought I was dreaming. I looked around and saw on one besides the pot-bellied shop keeper behind the cash register. But a few seconds later, there it was again.

"Quinn!"

I put the record down and walked deeper into the store. There was a staircase in the back that led up to a second level of more records and after a quick contemplation, I began to walk up. When I stepped through the small doorway, I saw a man standing in the far corner by a bin with a bunch of 45s. Slowly, tentatively, I made my way towards him. For reasons unknown to myself, I felt drawn to him and even if I wanted to, I couldn't stop my feet from moving. As I got closer I saw that he was wearing a long black trench coat and a black bowler hat. He had his back turned to me.

"I was beginning to think you would never find your way here."

I was taken aback. This guy was waiting for me? He didn't even know me.

"Who are you?"

"It matters not who I am, Ms. Collins. It only matters that you listen to what I have to say."

I was starting to get impatient. I hate people who make all those stupid and vague comments and expect you to guess what's on their mind. I stomped my foot on the floor like the girlie girl I hated to be and huffed.

"I hate mind games," I snapped. "Just tell me who the hell you are and what you want from me. How do you know my name?"

Suddenly the man spun on me and I gasped in spite of myself. He had a huge gash on the right side of his face and I was sure one of his eyes was made out of glass. I felt myself suppress a shudder. Maybe I shouldn't yell at this guy- you know, cause he could be a creeper murdering psycho.

"All right," I said, taking a tiny step back. "How do you know my name? And why were you expecting me? Who are you?"

"They call me Knox. I am the reason you are here."

_Whoa whoa whoa whoa. What? _

I tried digesting that. "You are the reason I am here? You time-travelled me here?" Knox nodded.

"I looked for a long time, all over the world, for the right person. When I saw you, I knew I had found who I was looking for."

"Right person for what?" I asked, trying to make sense of everything in my head. "What do you need me for?"

Knox looked at me with a grave expression. For a few seconds, all was silent. A loud rumble of thunder exploded in the sky and I jumped. I held my breath waiting for his answer.

"You have been given the chance to save John Lennon."

…

**A/N: **Ok. So there we go! Third chapter all done! What did you guys think? Oh and just a little note: I know that the songs were obviously written differently but it's for story purposes only. Anyway, please review! Thanks! -Addie


	4. A Mission of Sorts

**A/N: **Hey there everyone! I have to say that I am 10000000 % flabbergasted at how much you guys like this story. I have never been so inspired to write a story before and I have never written one so fast before! I have all of your awesome reviews to thank! :D Anyway…. Here is the much-awaited (I hope it was) chapter four!

**Disclaimer: **If I owned anything this valuable, then I'd be sitting in a mansion now, wouldn't I?

…

**In My Life….Stuff Happens: Chapter 4: A Mission of Sorts**

I stood there in the second level of the record store, blinking like a stupid person as Knox waited for me to answer. I tried using my voice but only a rusted squeak escaped and I shut my mouth before it could turn into a scream. The words that Knox had just said repeated through my mind.

"_You've been given the chance to save John Lennon."_

I controlled my breathing and grabbed onto the nearest shelf for support. If I didn't get it together fast, I'd land myself in a 1965 mental hospital. I took a few deep breaths for my own benefit and slowly looked up into Knox's eyes. I noticed just then that one was bright blue and the other was as dark as coal. It was a tad bit unnerving to look at.

"What do you mean?" I finally said, looking at him but avoiding his eyes.

Knox picked up a 45 from a nearby basket and turned it around in his fingers. "It means simply what I said. You were brought back here to try and save John Lennon." His tone of voice made it sound like he was describing a walk in the park and I felt the sudden need to smack him.

I didn't, obviously.

"Ok- but- I don't understand," I said, gesturing wildly with my hands- hey it's an Italian thing, leave me alone. "You brought me here?"

Knox nodded.

"To- save John Lennon?"

He nodded again.

"Ok- but as in save him, save him? Like- as in stop him from getting shot and dying?"

He nodded for the third time. I huffed, putting my hands on my hips. I was beginning to get a bit annoyed now.

"Listen, Knox," I said, not bothering to hide the annoyance from my voice. "You brought me to 1965. John Lennon doesn't die until 1980. What did you want me to do, hang out for 15 years?"

Knox was as quick as lighting and before I could react, he had me against the wall, his face merely a few inches from mine. I swallowed a gasp. I didn't want him to know that he had scared me. I didn't move as he spoke; I had to strain to hear his whisper of a voice.

"Listen, girl," he whispered in a deadly tone. "I brought you back here for a reason and it was not to have you be insubordinate or make stupid remarks. This is serious, do you understand?"

I gulped and nodded, barely whispering, "Yes."

"Good." He let me go after a few more seconds and was back in his position near the basket of 45s before I could blink. What, was he some sort of vampire or something?

"What- what exactly do I do?" I asked tentatively. I chose my words carefully now-didn't want to do anything to piss this guy off. Knox motioned for me to sit on a nearby crate and I did. After a few seconds of pacing before me, he began.

"Some people believe that everything happens for a reason," Knox started. His voice was lilting and for the first time, I thought I could detect a faint Irish accent. "John Lennon was senselessly killed outside his home in 1980. This- some believe- was not meant to happen. Ever since his death, it was wondered why someone couldn't just go back and change it. That's when we came."

"We came?" I asked. I didn't want to interrupt but my curiosity got the better of me. I hoped he'd answer and not slam me against the wall again because- ow, not fun.

"The elite order of the '_Taistealaithe Am',_" Knox explained. For my benefit he added, "It means the time travelers. We are a group who- only when needed- send people back in time. Either to fix or stop something that wasn't supposed to happen."

"So- what you're saying is that John Lennon was never supposed to die?"

Knox nodded. "For all intent and purposes- yes. But- that's not to say that if you fail, anything bad will happen. Usually when something horrible such as this happens, we step in. If the person fails at stopping the event then it was truly supposed to happen."

"Wait, wait," I said, shaking my head. This was all beginning to be too much for me. I never signed on for this. "I was brought her to stop John from getting killed but- if I don't stop it then- it's fine?"

"I know it seems a bit much to process-"

"Understatement!" I snapped, unable to hold myself back this time. "That's not fair. It's not fair to John or to me. I don't- I don't want to fail at this."

"If you do, in fact, fail then his death was truly meant to be," Knox explained, his voice still in a hushed whisper. "All you can do now is wait."

I looked up. "Wait for what?"

"The right time," Knox replied. He was beginning to inch towards the window. "For now, you must remain here in 1965. Get to know John and the others. And when the time is right, the mission will come into effect."

I stood up quickly, ready to make my way towards him. My head was spinning and I had so many questions. But before I could even take a half-step forward, there was a sudden burst of light. When the light faded, I realized that I was the only one standing in the room now.

Knox was gone.

….

_I must be insane. I think I've actually gone stark-raving mad. I'm probably locked up in an institution somewhere and all these events are part of my loony-toon hallucinations. I mean honestly- how else do you explain time traveling to 1965 and hanging out with the Beatles and Knox? I couldn't explain it any other way. I was insane._

I realized I was over-reacting. I couldn't actually be insane because I had seen too much to prove the time-traveling theory. And I honestly don't think that anyone in their right mind could create Knox- least of all me. I sighed as I walked down the street. It was literally pouring buckets of rain and the flimsy umbrella I bought at the dollar store wasn't giving me much cover. At least it wasn't thundering and lightning anymore.

"Hey- Quinn!"

I spun around at the mention of my name. I smiled when I heard the familiar Liverpulian accent and I walked forward to meet the two figures who were heading towards me. I almost burst out laughing when I saw what they were wearing. As far as disguises went, these were some of the weirdest I've ever seen.

"Hey George, Ringo," I said, stifling a laugh. When Ringo asked me why I was grinning, I burst into loud laugher. A few people on the sidewalk even stopped to stare so we moved into a nearby pub.

The pub was small and almost everything was made out of dark, mahogany wood. I followed George and Ringo to the back and we sat in a booth with red leather seats. The place was pretty much empty since it was only the afternoon and most people- save for the regular drunks- were at work.

"What's so funny?" George asked. I had stopped laughing loudly but there were still a few occasional snickers that escaped my lips as we sat in the booth.

George and Ringo sat across from me, both looking at each other and probably concluding I had gone mad. It was really hard not to, considering their piss-poor excuses for disguises. It was getting harder to look at them without laughing and I was on the verge of tears, I was laughing so much. George was wearing grey plaid pants- almost like a golfers- and a powder blue t-shirt. He had a blonde wig that went to his shoulders and huge black glasses. Ringo was wearing a pair of black pants, a white t-shirt and a black suit jacket. He also wore a grey wig and a grey fake beard. I almost spit out the drink I just ordered.

"I'm so sorry," I said, finally able to look at them without laughing. "Its just- you- you both look so ridiculous!"

George smiled. "We have to disguise ourselves or they'll be a bunch of girls chasing us!"

"Yeah," Ringo agreed, nodding. "And I'm tired."

I shook my head. These two were awesome. I never actually spent that much time with George or Ringo since I'd been here. It was either just with John or John and Paul. I welcomed this little excursion and I was kind of happy they bumped into me on the street. Not to mention the fact that I was still shaken up from my encounter with Knox- it was an understatement to say that I was glad for the distraction.

"Are you okay, luv?" Ringo asked.

"Of course, Ringo, I'm fine," I answered with a smile. "Why wouldn't I be?"

Ringo just shrugged and sipped at his beer. "We didn't expect to run into you like that. What'cha doing out anyway? Is John or Paul with you?"

"Nope," I answered, downing the rest of my coke. "I got a little pissed off at John and I didn't want to stay in the house anymore. So I just left and got on a bus and ended up here." _And thank God I ran into you guys or I'd be screwed._

George chuckled and I suppressed one a squeal. _I thought I wasn't gonna squeal anymore….? _He looked so cute when he laughed. "What did John do this time?"

_Jeez it's like it was expected of John to be an ass. Well…._

"He was being an idiot," I said but no angrily. "I had this Beatles book in my bag and he went and started flipping through it and he found out… stuff." I took a swig from my second Coke and sighed. "And! He's a fucking man-whore!"

It must have been the wrong time to say it because George and Ringo were in the middle of drinking and after I made the 'man-whore' comment, they simultaneously spit their beer across the table. Thankfully, it didn't hit me. Now it was their turn to laugh hysterically. I guess the word 'man-whore' didn't exist in 1965or at least wasn't used a lot yet. George looked so cute when he laughed. _Oh great, am I attracted to George now too? That's just a love triangle waiting to happen._

"What?" I asked, laughing myself now. After a few more seconds of hysterical laughter, they sobered up a bit.

"That's no surprise," Ringo said with a shrug. "John's always been like that. Sleeping around with women, not really caring too much about them."

"Wait a second though," I said, a sudden realization popping into my head. "Isn't he married by now? With a kid? You know, Julian?"

"How do you know that?" George asked, a quizzical look on his face. He smiled after the realization. "Oh yeah- the future, right?"

I nodded. "Obviously."

"Marriage doesn't stop John," Ringo explained, answering my previous question. "He's still a cheating- what do you call it- man whore!"

"Oh come on," I said with my eye-brows raised. "You guys can't attack him by saying that. I know you all cheat, have cheated and will cheat. Hello- I know your freakin' life histories!" They looked a little down and guilty at this so for their sake I added, "But it's common knowledge that John is the worst one."

"But you don't care?" George asked.

I sighed. It was a really difficult question. On one hand, it didn't really matter all that much when I was in the future. John was dead by then and it didn't really matter. Besides it was the rock star way of life wasn't it? But now actually knowing him and seeing how sweet he could be sometimes, it did bother me. That's what I told George and Ringo and they understood.

"Besides," I said, "its not like I'm actually going to get with the guy, you know? For one thing, he's technically fifty years older than me and- well, like it's been said a few time, he's a man-whore. And he's married and has a child. It's just- creepy in so many different ways. And yet-"

"You still like him," Ringo finished and I nodded. It couldn't be denied.

For me, John Lennon= drop dead gorgeous. And there was no way of getting around it. I just hoped he wouldn't find out how much I actually liked him or else he'd be an asshole and make fun of me for it. _The bastard._

"So-," I said. I had finished my second Coke and I knew I really didn't a third. I sat back and sighed. "Are we gonna do something? Go back home or- what?"

George and Ringo shared a secret glance and I smiled. I wanted to be let in on their little secret too!

"It's Paul's birthday tomorrow," George explained. _Oh yeah that's right. June 18__th__. _"And we're looking for something to buy him. It's from the three of us. John agreed to stay home so it didn't look weird."

_Aww that was so sweet! They bought birthday gifts for each other! _

"What are you buying him?" I asked. "And hey, I want to get him a gift too!"

Ringo cocked his head to the side a moment, thinking. "Well- we wanted to get him a fab new bass guitar. We could say it's from you too if you wanted."

I nodded, my heart singing because it felt so nice to be included. Man, I loved the Beatles. And Ringo was so cute…. _Okay, stop it. No more attraction!_

"We're going right now to the music store," George announced, throwing a few coins on the table. "The music shop is just down the street. You coming?"

"Sure," I said, standing and stretching. A burp escaped my lips before I could stop it and I looked up to the boys' matching gazes of amusement. I smiled sheepishly at them. "Sorry. Coke does that to me."

Neither George nor Ringo answered and I followed them out. As I stepped out from the pub, I was assaulted with a beam of bright sunlight. I guessed that during the half hour we spent in the pub, the rain had cleared away and the sun came back out. I was happy about it because by this point, I was really sick of getting rained on.

"Come on," George said, he and Ringo grabbed my hand and pulled me along. "It's right over here."

I let them both pull me across the crowded street and into the quaint little music shop. I stopped at the door, taking in my surroundings as they went about their business looking for Paul's guitar. The shop was very small, yes but it was way beyond amazing. Hanging on each wall were a row of guitars, all shiny and new; gleaming in the sunlight and just waiting to be bought. Straight in the back where Ringo stood, was a gleaming white piano and then around the rest of the store were a bunch of other instruments, each one carefully placed. It was simply breathtaking.

"Ringo, this one is great!"

"I don't know, George, I seem to fancy this one here."

"Oh come on Ringo, this one is perfect!"

I shook my head and ran over to the boys. I wanted to stop them before they got into another roll-on-the-floor fight. I stepped between them and studied the guitars each were holding. I had to admit, I liked both of them and I was sure Paul would too. It was just a matter of picking now. I didn't want to disappoint each of them by choosing one over the other so I had to think fast.

"All right," I said, placing on hand on each of their shoulders. "I'm going to think of a number from one to ten and you have to guess it. The one who either gets it or is the closest wins. "

George and Ringo looked at each other sceptically for a moment but then smiled and looked at me. I laughed inside. I was playing a children's game with two of the Beatles!

"Ten," George said.

Ringo was thinking for a few moments. "Umm…. Eleven."

I chuckled and George smacked Ringo upside the head.

"One to ten, Ringo!" George said. Ringo smiled sheepishly.

"Oh…. Sorry, luv…. Ok then- how about four?"

I nodded and added it up in my head. My number had been eight. I sighed before saying,

"George wins. My number was eight. He was the closest."

George did a little dance of celebration that almost forced me into hysterics again and Ringo put his choice of guitar away, a little sad expression on his face. After we had - or the boy's had- paid for the guitar and had it pleasantly gift wrapped, we headed back for the house.

Ahh…. What a day!

…

"Where the hell were you guys?"

Upon walking into the small house, we were greeted with a semi-angry John Lennon. He ran into the foyer from upstairs after we walked in the door. He must have just gotten out of the shower or something because he was dripping wet and had a towel wrapped around his waist.

I died just a little bit more inside.

I couldn't help myself and I didn't mind this time. Seeing John stand two feet in front of me in a towel made me that much more attracted to him and at that moment, the knowledge that he was a man-whore seemed to slip my mind. Once he noticed the look on my face, any anger he had in him disappeared and replaced it self with one of those priceless Lennon grins. I hoped I wouldn't faint.

"We just got back," George said. "And we got Paul's guitar!"

"Oh did you?" John asked, intrigued. He turned his gaze from me to George. "Paul is in his room, working on a song so go hide it in the basement or something!"

George nodded eagerly and ran towards the basement with Ringo in tow. I felt myself panic a little. I was alone with John. And he was in a towel! Ok so I already made that known but I was in a state of half-shock.

John Lennon. Towel. Kill me now.

"Hi there John," I said, leaning against the doorframe and trying to sound all casual. He saw right through me.

Of course, he had to be his typical asshole self about it.

Purposely, he came right up to me. I moved until my back hit the wall. I was pretty much trapped by a shirtless - and gorgeous- John.

"Like what you see, luv?"

I smirked. "Oh come on, John. Go put some clothes on, will you?"

He moved in closer. "You wouldn't like that would you?"

I had no choice. I put my hands on his bare chest and pushed. Of course, he only budged half a step. So now there I stood, my hands on his chest and him smiling down knowingly at me. Uggh, he was beginning to piss me off again.

"John…."

"What?" he asked, making a suggestive face down at me. It was all I could do not to blush.

"I will admit that you are my favourite Beatle. And that for all intent and purposes, you are my hero."

He grin was threatening to make me swoon. "And?"

"And…. John Lennon…. I'm not above kneeing you in the balls."

"Oh really?"

"Yes, John, really."

John didn't move for a few seconds and I began lifting my leg to show him how serious I was. He just laughed and stepped back. Quickly, before he ran up the stairs, he leaned down and whispered in my ear.

"I'd like to see you do something else with those."

I stared after him, my mouth agape. Did he really just suggest what I thought he did?

_What a fucking pig! _

I was actually considering telling Knox that I wasn't up for the mission of saving John but that would be horrible. Sure so I was mad at his man-whore-ness and his pig-like behaviour but I still had the utmost respect for him. I knew he may have been a bastard now, in this time, but I also knew how screwed up he was inside and how much he would change as he got older.

I took a breath and went into the living room. I sat on the couch, starting up at the ceiling. I heard the distant noises of George and Ringo play-fighting again and I felt a smile creep up on my face. All right, so I had over-reacted a little bit. John may be a bastard but he was still John Lennon.

I sighed and continued staring at the ceiling. This was just the beginning of a long mission.

I just hoped I was up for it.

…

**A/N: **All righty then. Another chapter done! I cannot believe it! I am just very inspired for this story! Ok maybe it's the shirtless John Lennon…. Anyway…. Please review! - Addie


	5. Fun and The Pending Mission

**A/N: **Hey there awesome readers! Again, I just want to extend my thanks to every single person who reviewed. I just want to say that you guys rock and that you seriously make my life. So- thank you! Also, another thank you to **hellbutterfly421**.… she gave me some ideas for this chapter. Also- let me apologize for some of the spelling mistakes; some just slip by me. Now, here is chapter 5, I hope it lives up to expectations!

**Disclaimer: **Me. Own. Nothing. Ok? Great.

…

**In My Life….Stuff Happens: Chapter 5: Fun and The Pending Mission**

That night, after a quiet dinner with the Beatles and another smack-fight with John, I went to bed and quickly found myself falling into a dream. It was the same dream that I had before except it was a continuation. Again I found myself under a lush green tree in the warm sunlight. Far in the distance was a man. He stood still, staring straight at me. He wore a dark trench coat and hat. I would recognize him anywhere.

Knox.

It was him in my first dream. If it wasn't for John waking me up, I would have met him in my dream and maybe I would have got a better heads up on the saving John mission. But it didn't matter anymore. I rose from my cross-legged sitting position and started to walk across the bright green field to meet Knox. He made no effort to move toward me so I continued until I reached him. Much like the first time I had met him, he stood with his back to me.

"I was beginning to think you wouldn't make it here."

"Wait- am I dreaming?" I asked. This whole thing was becoming more confusing by the minute.

"Yes. Apart from time-travel, the order of the _Taistealaithe Am _can also manipulate dreams."

I stood uncomfortably now, swaying from one foot to the other. I looked around at the beautiful scenery that was my dream. At least it wasn't some dark cave or a creepy dungeon which I thought was more Knox's style. I was a bit unnerved about this whole thing. I mean, even my dreams were being infiltrated now.

_Was nothing sacred anymore? _

"We only enter dreams when we need to communicate."

I raised my eyebrows at that. _Did he just hear what I thought in my mind?_

"Yes," Knox said with a nod. "We also have the power to read minds."

_Shit._

"All right," I said with my hands raised. "I don't want to know anymore. I might go even crazier than I am already." I waited in silence for a few moments and when he didn't speak I said, "So- umm- to what do I owe this visit?"

Knox turned to face me then and I had to hold back a gasp. I had seen his face earlier in the record store but I still couldn't get used to it. He wore such a grim expression on his face that I couldn't help but become a bit alarmed at what he was going to say next. But as I would come to learn later, Knox always wore the same expression and rarely- if ever- smiled.

"I just came to make sure you're still up for the mission," Knox said. He cocked his head slightly to the side. "Are you?"

I swallowed and nodded. "Yes. Yes. I would never back down from something like that." _No matter how much I wanted to hurt John._

Knox laughed. It was a weird sound. "Having trouble with Lennon?"

I felt a smile spread across my face. "Just a little bit. He can be- difficult at times."

"So I've heard," Knox said, nodding. "That's why it was so hard finding the right person. You have been sent here to really get to know John. You have to break through his wall and try to get into his heart. Only then do you have a chance of saving him."

_Oh wonderful. It was going to be that easy, was it?_

"Don't be discouraged," he added after no doubt hearing my thoughts. "It will all work out they way its meant to."

"Umm…. Knox…. ," I said, some uncertainty creeping into my voice. "Listen- do I tell John any of this? Do I tell him what happens to him so he can avoid it? I mean, do I-"

"NO!" Knox half-yelled, cutting me off abruptly and scaring me a little. "You must not tell him anything, do you understand? He has found out too much already and he cannot afford to know anymore. None of them can. Do you understand me?"

I nodded quickly and he seemed to visibly relax.

"I'm done here for now," Knox said in his whispered tone. "Go. Just live for now. As I have already said, the time will come."

I wasn't satisfied. "But-"

"No. No more questions." He snapped his fingers. "Wake up!"

Bang, just like that I was sitting up in my bed, breathing hard and sweating something awful. I looked around wildly and realized I was back in my room and I was alone. I threw myself back onto my pillow with a huff and reached for my iPod on the nightstand. I needed music. A few seconds later, I was plugged in and had the music blasting in my ears. Immediately, I relaxed.

It wasn't quite morning time yet and therefore, I didn't have to deal with reality yet. I let myself drift with the music and in minutes I had fallen into a dreamless sleep.

…

"YOU ARE AN IDIOT JOHN!"

"OH AND WHO ARE YOU? ST. FUCKING MCCARTNEY?"

I was just closing the bathroom door when I heard the shouting coming from the first floor followed by the loud crash of something being knocked over. I took off like a bullet, skipping down the steps and charging into the living room. I hoped I wouldn't find what I thought I would find. But as I turned the corner into the living room, what I feared was happening right before my eyes.

John and Paul were having a fight, screaming at each other while being held back by George and Ringo. The looks on their faces told me that this wasn't the first time either of them had fought with each other. I guess after spending so much time together, someone is bound to blow their top every once and a while. I mean come on, just look at the _Let It Be _period. I had to stop this before they got any further into the fight. I've heard of the Lennon temper but I didn't want to witness it.

I didn't know where else to go so they would see and hear me so I stood on the coffee table. George smirked when he saw me and I half-smiled back. He was holding back Paul while Ringo was holding John. I cleared my throat and used the loudest voice I had ever used in my whole lifetime.

"JOHN WINSTON LENNON! JAMES PAUL MCCARTNEY! STOP THIS RIGHT THIS VERY INSANT!"

Right after the words left my mouth, all movement stopped. I think the loudness of my voice and the shock me just popping up while they were busy fighting stopped them. I tried hard looking like an angry mother and after John took one look, a grin broke out onto his face. I guess you didn't see such a woman in control in these times and of course it was funny to John. Paul just shook off George and collapsed into the green chair.

"All right," I said, still in my mother tone. "All you Beatles, sit down now."

George and Ringo sat on the couch without a word and to my utter surprise, so did John. I jumped down for the table and sighing, I sat cross-legged on top it. I couldn't believe I was playing referee to them now.

"What's going on? Why the hell are you guys fighting like a bunch of psychos?"

John huffed, loosing his smirk as he remembered the fight. He crossed his arms over his chest and sent a shooting glare in Paul's direction.

"He started it."

_Really? We were playing the school-yard game of 'he started it' between Paul McCartney and John Lennon? Wonderful. _

"Paul?" I asked, turning to him. I hoped he'd be the better man about this.

"John was being an ass," he explained. He looked kind of cute when he was angry. _Ok, so not the point right now. _"Not that it's out of the ordinary!"

John almost leapt up but Ringo and George were on either side of him and held him by his arms. I was starting to get a little scared of him but I pushed it aside and turned back to Paul.

"Ok. How about we forget who started it," I said, throwing my hands up in the air. "Let's just focus on what you were fighting about."

Neither of them answered for a while. Finally, and again much to my surprise, John spoke. His voice was starting to sound normal again and the anger was slowly disappearing from his face. Paul too was beginning to calm down. I was grateful for that at least.

"I came down here for breakfast," John said. There was a slight hint of annoyance in his voice. "I asked if you were up yet. George said you weren't so I offered to go wake you up…."

"You said you were going to jump on her. Bother her, like you did yesterday," Paul added with spite. John glared at him.

"Shut-up, Paul," John growled. He took a breath and continued. "After I said that, Paul went off on me, saying I was acting like an idiot and that I was playing you and all that rubbish."

"It's not rubbish," Paul said in his own defence. "You're always the same, John! You lead girls on and sleep with them and drop them like a hat! And I'm sick of it!"

"Oh don't give me that!" John yelled back. He was beginning to get angry again and an alarmed-looking George and Ringo had to hold onto his arms tightly. "You aren't a fucking saint, either!"

"I'm not married, John!"

A crack of lightning across the sky would have been perfect for that moment. John's eyes widened and nearly popped out of his skull. But he didn't say anything and instead sunk back into the couch. He knew Paul was right and he couldn't say anything to defend himself. I had had enough of this. It was downright scary seeing the Beatles fight- especially John and Paul. I stood.

"All right. John and Paul," I said in a levelled voice. "You can't fight like this. It's not right and it bothers me. I do not want to see you guys going at it like this. It bugs me, you understand? It really bugs me!" I stopped, taking a breath and exhaling it slowly. "Just please…. no more fighting."

Both John and Paul looked at each other and sighed. After a few more moments, they both broke out into wide grins. I smiled. Guys could be so weird sometimes. One minute, they were at each other's throats and the next, they were best buddies again. And they say women are tough to figure out?

"Kiss and make up," I said with a smirk. John got up and started towards me. I pushed him way with a laugh. "Not with me. With Paul, you idiot!"

John chuckled and ruffled my hair as he walked over to Paul's chair. Just as Paul began to stand, John threw himself at him and they fell to the ground in a heap, laughing and now playfully fighting with each other. I shook my head and plopped down between George and Ringo. I leaned my head on George's shoulder.

"I'm tired now," I declared. "How the hell do you two deal with them two?"

Ringo laughed. "Ahh luv, we fight all the time. It's our Liverpool upbringing I suspect."

"Yes," George agreed. I lifted my head from his shoulder to look at that both of them. "We all fight each other. It's a Beatles thing."

"Yeah," I said dryly but I was fighting a smile. "I'm sure it is. Hey guys! It's Paul's birthday isn't it? Go get his present!"

"Right you are, luv!" George said, grabbing Ringo and pulling him out of the room.

_Great, I'm stuck with the crazy twins._

They might have been the best writing team in the history of music but still, they could be childish. I just couldn't believe they were fighting over John being a man-whore and in effect, me. I thought I was sent here to fix things- not get between John and Paul. Oh, sometimes life itself could be an idiot.

John and Paul were standing now, holding each other's arms and laughing like a couple of hysterical kids. I couldn't keep the smile off my face as I watched them. They made their way over to the couch and took the places where George and Ringo were sitting moments before. John put his arm around me and I let him keep it there. I know I had promised myself I would stop squealing but I had to allow for one more. It was an inward squeal thankfully so no one was the wiser.

"Hey Paul?"

Paul turned to me with that cute baby-face smile. "Yes, luv?"

"Happy Birthday!"

Paul seemed to blush a little bit. It was so cute to see. John clapped him on the shoulder and began singing 'Happy Birthday' very loudly. Just as he finished, George and Ringo appeared with Paul's wrapped gift in their hands. Paul looked so happy- like a kid on Christmas. I just wanted to squeeze him!

"It's from all of us," George announced with a big grin spread across his face. He and Ringo handed the present to Paul and sat down to watch him open it.

Paul smiled at all of us before tearing off the wrapping paper from his present and throwing it in all different directions. I laughed as a piece landed on my head and John flicked it off. When the guitar was fully unwrapped and Paul had taken it out of its case, he gasped. The look on his face was enough to equal over one million thank you's Paul could have said.

"This is fab," Paul said, cradling the shiny bass guitar. "It's the best present I ever got."

"Oh get on!" John said, waving his hand.

"No, honest," Paul said with a smile. He was hugging the guitar for dear life as if he was in fear someone would take it.

"All right," I said, getting off the couch so I could face all of them. "Before you all start crying- let's do something to celebrate!"

"Like what?" George asked.

I thought for a moment. My eyes turned to the window that overlooked the backyard. Slowly, I felt the grin spread across my face and I looked back at the Beatles. John, who had been following my gaze, smiled in acknowledgement.

"All right then," he said with that devilish Lennon grin. "Let's go swimming!"

The loud whoops of agreement from the other three was enough for me. I burst out laughing as we all ran towards the stairs to but on our bathing suits.

…

After we had raced up the stairs- and at some point, all of us almost fell - I stood in my room, staring at myself in the mirror. Since I had come from the future and all, I didn't have a bathing suit to wear and since I wasn't going in my underwear like John suggested, I was forced to wear something one of the boys gave me. The pair of black shorts Ringo gave me reached just above my knees and Paul's black undershirt was a tad too big. But, it was all I had and I couldn't complain. _After all, _I thought with a smile, _I'm going swimming with the Beatles. _

A sudden loud banging on the door made me jump. I turned to see the door open slightly and a shirtless John peer in. _No, he couldn't wear a towel, could he? _I did my best to hide my growing smile.

"Are you done, my dear?" he asked in a mock-posh tone.

I smiled and nodded. "Yes. I'm ready."

He pushed open the door and walked in, extending his hand to me. I laughed as I put my hand in his. He was in a cheery mood at the moment and I didn't want to chance it and make him go all 'bastard' and 'pig-like' again. I let him pull me out of the room and down the stairs. We stopped at the fridge and he opened it, peering inside and moving things around as he tried to find what he was looking for. All the while he was doing this, he was holding onto my hand.

"What the hell are you looking for John?"

He ignored me for a minute and then closed the fridge, producing a huge bottle of vodka. He waved it at me and I grinned, shaking my head.

"I don't drink," I said but he simply shrugged and pulled me out the back door.

It was a nice, summer day and the sun was shining brightly; its rays beaming down on our heads and making the urge to go for a swim even greater. Looking from the living room window, the pool looked big- but not as big as it looked from up close. It stretched from one side of the backyard to other and had to be at least twenty feet long and fifteen feet wide. It was absolutely glorious and I couldn't wait to jump in. It was even equipped with a high diving board and many lawn chairs positioned around the pool. This was a backyard I wished I had back home in 2010.

The other three were already in the pool, splashing around and having a good time. And for the record, all of them were shirtless. I know I promised myself I wouldn't have the moments where I died inside but- this was going to be the last time. I hoped anyway. I was just about to turn around and see why John had been so quiet but before I could, I heard a loud scream and felt something collide with me. Me and John, with his arms now wrapped around my waist, went flying into the water. The water shot up my nose but I emerged from the water, laughing. John popped up beside me, his hair flopped over one side of his forehead. I grabbed his hair and spiked it up so now he looked like one of those goth kids you see in high school.

I burst out laughing. "You… look… absolutely… ridiculous!"

"Oh really?" John said. He grabbed my head and pushed me under the water.

_Oh. It was on. _

When I re-surfaced, it was like all hell had broke loose. I was splashing John like crazy and he was splashing me back. After a few minutes of that, the other three joined in and it was truly a crazy time. When we finally tired ourselves out from splashing each other like five year olds, Paul and Ringo climbed up to the diving board and decided to jump down together. On our - John, George and I - count of three, they charged from the back of the diving board and jumped, holding onto each other's arms.

SPLAT!

They landed with such a loud noise that it almost drowned out our loud laughter. I was just glad when they resurfaced. A hurt Beatle was something I did not need on my hands right now. We stayed in the pool for another couple of hours and when the sun finally began to set, we got out and sat on the lawn chairs, drying ourselves and relaxing. Ringo was the last one to get out and as he stood there, I couldn't help myself from screaming out,

"Whoa, Ringo!"

He stopped drying himself for a moment and looked at me. He began to blush a bit and he smiled one of those cute signature smiles.

"What?" he asked. The other three were snickering amongst themselves and I was turning a bit red now.

"Sorry," I said with a chuckle. I waved my hand in front of my face. "It's just- my- never mind-" The Beatles burst into loud laughter and I just shook my head.

"Oh," John said suddenly, breaking from his laughter. "We've gotta go into the studio tomorrow."

"Oh yeah," Paul said. "Brian is bringing us in to talk to a director. We're going to do another movie."

"I know." I was smiling." It's gonna be a great one too. Although you guys were credited as saying that you felt like extras in your own movie…."

John raised his eye-brows. "What do you mean?"

I shook my head with a smile. "I'm not saying a word…."

"Oh come on!" Paul said, pushing my shoulder a bit. I chuckled. "Tell us something about it!"

I shook my head, remembering what Knox had told me. I couldn't risk it by telling them any more about their future. One little slip of the tongue and I could change or ruin their lives. And I was not going to even try and take that chance. I was on a mission and I had to focus on it.

"Sorry, boys," I said, getting up and going back into the house. I heard their groans of protest until I shut the door. I leaned against the wall and smiled. I felt amazing.

I wonder what was gonna happen next….

…

**A/N: **Chapter five, done. I hope you guys all liked it! Please review and tell me what you think! -Addie


	6. Second Hand Pot Smoke

**A/N: **Greetings lovely readers! Once again (I will be saying this repeatedly and in every chapter because I am very grateful) thank you for the amazing reviews! You guys make me want to write and I am very happy for that! A couple of extended thank-yous go to **CrazyCatie** and **hellbutterfly421 **for some ideas they gave me for this chapter. Also to **SydneyRaeHarrison**, I just like to say thanks for reading and reviewing. You have disabled private messaging and since I PM everyone my thanks, I'd like to say thank you here. So- thanks! All right- chapter 6.

**Disclaimer: **Yeah, yeah, yeah….

…

**In My Life….Stuff Happens: Chapter 6: Second Hand Pot Smoke**

_I was in a strange place. A different place. At first I was spiralling through a dark wormhole; it was like a slide that felt almost never-ending. But there was a light at the end of this tunnel-slide and when I went through the blinding white light, I found myself standing on a sidewalk in a big, bustling city. I had only been here once but I recognized it right away._

_New York City. Manhattan._

_What was I doing here? I couldn't be sure. The last thing I remembered was lying down in my bed to sleep. And yet- here I was. There were people walking around me but they didn't look normal. Everything, even myself, was in black and white- like one of those old Humphrey Bogart movies you see late at night on the classic movie channel. No one saw me. I suddenly felt compelled to turn around and when I did, my heart stopped beating in my chest._

_Ahead of me- only by a few feet- was the only person in colour. He had aged greatly over the years but I was still able to recognize him. It was nighttime but the way I saw him was almost as bright as day. I knew what was going to happen next and I tried to run forward. But I felt like I was nailed to the ground and all I could do was watch._

_John had just got out of the car and was walking towards his building; his home where just inside, his young song slept peacefully, waiting for his Daddy to come home. But he never would. A man slowly walked up to John; he was pure black and I couldn't see any of his features. But I knew full well who he was. I swallowed the urge to throw up all over the side walk. _

_The black figure raised his hand and I could see the object he held. The silvery moonlight hit the shiny metal piece and it gleamed. I tried to scream out but my voice didn't work. _

_BANG!_

I sat up in my bed suddenly, breathing hard. Cold sweat dripped from me; my clothes soaked with it and there were tears running down my face. It was only a dream, I knew that but it felt so real. I gripped my blankets hard as I tried to get my breathing back in control. I felt like I was about to hyperventilate.

_It's ok, it's ok, it was only a dream. Relax, relax, breathe. It's all right. It's gonna be all right, it's gonna be all right…._

I swallowed down the bile that was creeping up my throat and closed my eyes as I worked on getting my breathing back to a more suitable level. I felt the images of the nightmare slowly slip away and my breathing finally begin to calm down.

_It's gonna be all right…. It's gonna be all right…. It's gonna be all right…._

"You see how serious it is don't you?"

I almost screamed when I heard the voice. My eyes flew open and I jumped off the bed. There was Knox, sitting on a chair across the room. He didn't look particularly alarmed or worried. He just sat, staring out the window into the bright sunlight. I huffed loudly, walking over to where he sat. I leaned against the window frame, looking out of the window. I focused on two squirrels fighting in the nearby tree. I was trying to control myself.

"Did you have to show me that?" I asked. My voice was in a hushed whisper. I was trying to stop the tears from escaping.

"I wanted to make sure you understood the seriousness of this mission."

I clenched my fist until it hurt. But I kept it by my side. I wasn't about to go crazy on this guy who clearly had some powers beyond this world. I continued staring out of the window. The tears were beginning to sting my eyes and it was getting harder to keep my voice controlled.

"I understand how serious this is," I said. "I understand that I have to stop it. I know how he died. You don't have to torture me by showing it."

"This is not torture," Knox replied in a steely voice. "Believe me, girl, if I wanted to torture you, it wouldn't be this easy." I stiffened at that but didn't say anything. I believed him when he said that. "You may have known about his death but it wouldn't fully effect you unless I showed it to you first."

"Fine," I said. It wasn't worth it to fight. "Just… please…. Don't do this to me anymore. I can't take it. Please."

"I think you've seen enough," Knox agreed and I heard him stand. I felt him standing behind me. "Be prepared. The mission will begin soon."

"When?"

I spun around. Knox had already disappeared.

_Damn it. I hated when he did that._

I began getting dressed and did my best to keep images from the nightmare out of my head. I had slept in pretty late and it was almost lunch time now. Before leaving the room, a small yellow paper on the night stand caught my eye. I picked it up, unfolded it and read it.

_Quinn, _

_Me and the lads have gone to the studio. Won't be back until after six. Try not to miss me too much._

_John._

I laughed and folded it back, sticking it in the pocket of my bag. I looked over to the clock on the wall.

11:45AM.

Since the boys weren't going to be back until after six, I would have some time to myself. I unzipped my bag and took out my laptop, carrying it with me downstairs. I set it up on the table and opened it_. God, you don't realize how much you miss things until you haven't used them in a while. _I clicked on the little computer icon on the task bar and waited. After a few seconds, a message popped up.

'_**No wireless networks found.'**_

I mentally smacked myself. I forget for a moment that I was in 1965. The internet hadn't been invented yet and wouldn't be for almost another thirty years. I sighed. I guess Facebook, IMDB and Fan Fiction would have to wait until I got back to my own time. It was a bummer because I was starting to get a bit bored in the house by myself.

LIGHTBULB!

When I was back in my own time and bored at home, I would usually write. These past few days had been packed with a multitude of things I could write about. Maybe I'd write down everything that happened so far and then continue to write as my little vacation in 1965 went on. I figured that when I got back to 2010, I'd post my story on the fan fiction website in the _Across The Universe _section. It could pass for one of those girls-going-back-in-time-and-hanging-out-with-the-Beatles story. Besides, not only would it make a good fan fiction story; it would be a diary- something for me to remember this by.

I opened up my word processor program and began typing. It was best to start from the beginning.

_I was mad. Hopping mad. What the hell does that even mean, hopping mad?…._

…

**(John POV)**

"John?"

"What the fuck do you want?"

I was leaning back in my chair and staring at the ceiling. I was going fucking mad in this stupid place. And Paul pestering me with questions wasn't helping my mood. I was going to punch his goddamn lights out if he asked me what was wrong one more time.

"Come on, Johnny."

I sat up in my chair and looked at Ringo. _So he was going to start bothering me too now, was he?_

"You want to get in on it too?" I snapped at George. He shook his head. _Poor kid. _I guess I shouldn't yell at him but I was starting to get fucking pissed.

Paul just had to push it. He couldn't leave well enough alone could he. I suppose it was my fault. I'm the one who let it slip about what I read in that stupid book I found in Quinn's room.

"We're just worried, John," Paul said.

"You don't have to be," I snapped. I grabbed the pack of cigarettes from the table and lit one. I didn't offer one to any of the others. If they wanted one, they would have to get it themselves. I lit it and blew out the smoke. "I'm fine."

_Maybe I wasn't fine. But I wasn't about to spill my feelings to them. Even if they were my best mates._

"Can we just go back to talking about this movie?" I asked.

I was glad when they agreed. I didn't want to even think about what I had read in that book- let alone talk about it.

_As if my life wasn't already screwed up…._

…

Six hours and five cups of coffee later, I was almost done writing the events from yesterday. I had separated my writing into chapters- for the sake of fan fiction - and I had just finished chapter five. The music was blaring from my laptop speakers and I couldn't help but sing along. I couldn't sing to save my own life and I hated the sound of my own voice- but it didn't stop me.

"_There you go and baby, here am I. Well you left me here so I could sit and cry. Well- golly gee what have you done to me? Well I guess it doesn't matter anymore…."_

I didn't hear anything because the music was so loud but I jumped when I suddenly heard a quartet of voices joining me in the next line of the song.

"_Do you remember baby, last September how you held me tight each and every night. Well- whoops-a-daisy, how you drove me crazy, but I guess it doesn't matter anymore."_

I closed the music player and slammed the lid of the laptop down quickly. I smiled sheepishly at the Beatles. They were standing behind the couch, staring at with identical smiles. They had not only caught me singing like a crazy person but also with a piece of technology that wasn't invented yet. Well- for the general public anyway. I heard somewhere that computers were used in the 1940s for world war II.

"Hi boys," I said with a wide grin. I tried standing in front of the laptop so they wouldn't see it. I failed at sounding casual. "What's up?"

"Where was that music coming from?" Paul asked, trying to look around me.

I shrugged and continued smiling. "Umm… the radio?"

"How did the radio suddenly turn off, then?"

"It- broke?" I offered. They didn't seem convinced and I shook my head, moving aside. "It came from my computer."

"What's a computer?" George moved around the couch to look at the computer. He was trying to get the lid back up. "How do you work this thing?"

I chuckled. I sat on the floor in front of the computer and motioned for the other three to come around me. Ringo sat on the floor beside me and the other two sat on the couch. They all looked like eager school children, wanting to learn. I lifted the lid of the computer and it was followed by gasps of amazement. My background was a picture of them - of course - and they noticed immediately. Thank God it was a young picture of them.

"Hey it's us!" Ringo said happily. He said the same exact thing when he saw my Beatles t-shirt.

"I look stupid in that picture," John declared with a scowl. I playfully smacked him.

"What, are you a woman now?" I said and he half-smirked. "You look fine. Get over it."

It was a picture of them getting off the plane on their first visit to the United States. I thought they all looked fine but of course John always had something bad to say about himself. _Honestly, sometimes men could be worse than women were supposed to be. _I decided to do something for them that I was sure would make their day.

"Listen to this," I said as I clicked open my music page. I opened the _'A Hard Day's Night' _album and played the title song. After a few seconds, the first twang of the guitar came on. It was loud and they all jumped a bit.

The look on their faces as they listened to the song was priceless. I knew they had obviously heard the song before but not like this with the loud quality and crystal clear sound. As much as I loved listening to vinyl records, I had to admit that the files on the computer- probably from a CD - sounded way better. When the song was finished, they were all silent.

"Whoa guys," I said with a chuckle. "You all right?"

"That was gear," George replied, breaking the silence. "Do you got all our songs on that- thing?"

I nodded. "I do. Everything you made and everything you will make." John was starting to open his mouth but I cut him off. "And no, I will not let you hear the songs you haven't written yet."

"What else you got there?" Paul asked.

"Umm… lots of things," I said. "Music, movies, TV shows, typed up documents, a shit load of pictures. You name it."

"Can we see some of the pictures at least? Of us, you know."

"Sorry," I said to Ringo with a smile. "There are mixed pictures of you guys younger and older."

"One more song, then?" John asked.

_I guess it wouldn't hurt to let them hear one more of their songs…._

I searched some of their earlier albums to find the perfect song to play for them. I made sure to click fast so they wouldn't see the names of their later albums. By accident I l clicked on _Abbey Road _but I closed the page fast enough before either of them could read the song titles. I opened their first album and clicked _'Hold Me Tight.' _Again, they wore expressions of awe and amazement on their faces. It was moments like these I would remember the most when I returned back to 2010. Also, John Lennon shirtless but that was a story in itself.

"I like this computer thing," Ringo said with a smile after the song had ended.

"Yeah," I agreed, shutting it off and closing the lid. "We like it in 2010." I was glad my laptop was password protected. Even if one of them managed to turn it on, they wouldn't be able to get on.

"So- Buddy Holly, huh?" John asked me with an interested grin and I saw a hint of respect on his face. "We love his stuff."

"I know," I said, nodding. "Buddy was great. All the old music was great. Well at least it's old in my time. You guys rank right up there with him. If not better." They seemed to like that comment. It made me smile. I stretched and yawned. "So- what's on the agenda tonight?"

The Lennon grin told me it was something mischievous. Later that night…. I got my answer.

….

"Have some!" John said, pointing the small joint he held in his hand at me.

I pushed his hand away. "No thanks."

I got up from the floor where we had been sitting in a circle and plopped down on the couch. I couldn't believe what I was witnessing. Half of me was laughing at their stupid behavior and the other half was getting more and more upset with each drag of the joint they took. _Marijuana? Really? _I crossed my arms and huffed inwardly. _Well I guess that had met Bob Dylan._

After dinner is when this all started. John ushered all of us into the living room and made us sit in a circle on the floor. I began to get suspicious when he started bouncing a little and when he produced a small bag of green stuff from his jacket, I shook my head.

"No," I said. "Come on, guys. Really?"

"What's the matter?" John asked. He shrugged; the typical rebel. "It's only pot, Quinn. It ain't gonna kill us. It gives you a hell of a trip though."

I crossed my arms and stared at them with half-angry looks. I didn't condone drug use and to be completely honest, it bothered. Especially to think that the Beatles did it. I respected the facts that they created some good music while high and that most people did drugs in the 1960s. It still pissed me off; royally. Well at least I didn't land in the LSD period.

It didn't take them a long time to get high. And guess who had to deal with them? It was true- I was babysitting the Beatles. I was just afraid that they might try to jump off the roof because they thought they could fly or go wander off outside somewhere. I was beginning to get freaked out. I wasn't equipped to deal with four drugged up men.

It was an hour after they first began and things didn't look like they were getting any better. If it was possible, I think it was getting worse by the minute. I hadn't been sitting on the couch for even a minute before John threw himself beside me. He landed with such a hard thump that I was thrown up into the air for a few moments. He was laughing hysterically and leaning on me. He reeked of the stuff but he was too heavy to push off.

"Pleeeeeaaaaase, Quinn," he said, drawing out the vowels. "Try some."

"No," I said firmly. "I don't do drugs, John. Now will you fucking get off me."

"What?" He said, looking up at me. His head was now on my lap and his legs were dangling off the arm of the couch. "Did you say you want to fuck me?"

"NO!" I yelled and I hoped he could hear the disgust in my voice. "I want you to get off me. You guys are stoned out of your freaking minds!"

"Are we really?"

I turned my head to look at Paul. He was sitting in the lotus position and he had a deep expression on his face. He looked as if he was both scared and enlightened. I just couldn't wait to see what he would say next. I was being sarcastic and actually just wanted them all to go to sleep.

"What, Paul?" I asked, closing my eyes for a moment. "Are we really what?"

Paul remained completely serious as he spoke. "Are we really out of our minds? Are we ever, in fact, in our minds? So if we aren't ever in our minds then how are we out of our minds?"

I had absolutely nothing to say. There wasn't a possible answer I could give to that. I just sat there blinking like an idiot. The other three stoned Beatles were quiet, staring at Paul with wide eyes. And then…. All three of them simultaneously burst into loud laughter. I think I could safely say that I have never witnessed more hysterical people in my life. And even though it made me laugh, I was scared.

"Hey- I have an idea," I said suddenly. Just like that, they stopped laughing and were staring at me all attentive-like.

"What?" George asked. His eyes were wide and slightly ringed in red. "Have you do- I mean- do you have something special for us to do?"

I nodded, keeping my smile big. "Yes. Yes I do. We are all gonna go to bed. Yeah- and I promise you that you will all have an awesome dream. A very colourful and happy dream."

"I like dreaming," Ringo said with a cheery smile. He started to get up. "I want to have a coloured dream."

George nodded and stood up and put his arm around Ringo. They started to dance a bit and then made their way out of them room and up the stairs. They only fell twice- both times because George had put his hand over Ringo's eyes. But I followed close behind them and sighed with relief when they finally made their way into their rooms. It was the other two I was worried about. When I got back down stairs, Mr. Paul McCartney the philosopher was still sitting on the floor, making weird noises and staring into space. I would deal with him later. John was beginning to scare me and get on my nerves.

"What the fuck are you doing?" I sat, looking at John.

John was standing on the couch in his underwear, with a bowl from the kitchen on his head. He held a long spoon in his hand and was singing into it. And when I say singing, I mean screeching like a banshee. And he was totally massacring the Beatles own song. I put my head in my hand for a moment. _I wasn't cut out for this shit._

"_SHE LOVES YOU, YEAH YEAH YEAH. WE LOVE HER YEAH YEAH YEAH. WE HATE YOU YEAH YEAH YEAH. SHE LOVES ME YEAH YEAH YEAH. YEAH YEAH YEAH. YEAH YEAH YEEEEEEEAH."_

A picked up a magazine from the table and threw it at John, hitting him square in the face. He made a weird scream noise and fell backwards, landing with a loud thud on the floor. I ran forward and jumped onto the couch, looking over it. John was sprawled on the floor, the spoon still clutched in his hand. The bowl on his head saved him from a nasty head wound. He was knocked out, thankfully and I called Paul over. He was still stoned and reeling from his new life lesson he had just learned but he was still able to help me carry him up the stairs. We put him in his bed without a hitch. I was following Paul out the door but John grabbed my arm.

"No, no," he mumbled. "Stay here. With… me. Please."

I didn't know what to do. "Look, John, why don't you go to bed…"

"No!" He said with more force this time. He still had hold of my arm and he pulled me towards him. I was sitting on his bed with him tightly gripping my arm. He was beginning to scare me.

"John," I said softly, using my voice to try and soothe him. "You have to go to sleep now. You will feel better in the morning."

"Listen to me," John pleaded. He sounded scared. The fall from the couch changed him. He was still stoned but just scared now. "I don't understand it. I don't understand how it could happen."

"What don't you understand, John?"

His voice was strained and he was out of it. But I still could understand him. "I don't understand….. Why is someone going to murder me? Do I do something bad? Do I deserve to be murdered?"

My heart was breaking. The tears were already flowing down my face. I squeezed his hand as I spoke.

"Listen to me, John," I said. I was having a hard time keeping my own voice normal. "You may have done some things in your life and you will do some things. But- you never did anything to deserve to get murdered. And I will try my hardest to stop it."

"What?"

"Don't worry about it, John. You just go to sleep now."

Thankfully, he didn't say anymore and a few moments later, he was sleeping. I stayed there for a while, watching him sleep. It seemed to me that John Lennon was most at peace when he was asleep. When he was asleep, he could escape his life and live in his dreams. I felt sorry for him. I stood and covered him with the blanket. I reached out a hand to push the hair from his face and before leaving the room, I whispered:

"I'm sorry, John. I will save you- if it's the last thing I ever do."

With that, I shut the door behind me and walked back to my own room. Life could be so hard sometimes. I didn't know what to do next. I added another layer of stress and worry to John's life. Knox basically told me to be ready because the mission to save John would start soon- whenever soon was.

I didn't know anymore. I just didn't know if I was cut out for this.

I felt like I didn't know anything anymore….

…

**A/N: **Whooooa. I think this was my longest chapter yet. Well, thanks for reading and please please don't forget to leave a review! - Addie


	7. Stoner Aftershock and Forced Questions

**A/N: **Salutations awesome readers! I will repeat again- thank you for all your wonderful reviews. They truly make me feel awesome and I couldn't ask for better readers! Just a quick note: I'm updating now because I will be on a retreat in Ohio until Sunday night. Just a few thanks to **Jlovely**, **CrazyCatie, Xo Chan** and **hellbutterfly421** for some ideas given for this chapter. Thanks! Dokey okey- chapter 7!

**Disclaimer: **Oh shut up.

…

**In My Life….Stuff Happens: Chapter 7: Stoner Aftershock and Forced Questions**

I was sorely mistaken by thinking that I had gotten the Beatles safely off to sleep.

I was only in my room for less than an hour and I was just about to get into bed when the door burst open suddenly. I jumped almost twenty feet backwards and grabbed onto the first thing my hands touched. I threw it against the wall once I saw what it was. A pencil wasn't hardly a choice weapon against attackers. Thank God it was only Paul.

But- he was stoned out of his mind. Again.

"Paul?" I asked. "What in hell are you doing?"

He was standing before me, looking completely happy, in his underwear. If it was any other time and if he wasn't stoned out of his mind, I'd be squealing. Instead, I stared him square in the eyes and placed my hands on my hips, shaking my head like some mother hen. Paul didn't seem to care about his lack of clothes and was content with smiling like a lunatic.

"The lads and I are ready to go out now," he announced matter-of-factly. I was speechless for a few seconds.

"Paul?"

He moved his head all the way to one side and smiled. "Yes, Quinn?"

"It's one 'o' clock in the morning," I said, trying to be gentle. "Where do you think you boys are gonna go?"

"Streaking of course," he said in that same tone and proceeded to skip out of the room. Yes- skip.

_Streaking. Of course. Because what else would be more normal?_

I shot of the room like a ball from a cannon. I couldn't believe I thought it was that easy; putting the Beatles to sleep. I was stupid to think they would just go to sleep and not get back up to stone themselves even more. I cursed out loud and instead out taking the stairs, I slid down the banister- all the way to the bottom. I reached the front door just before the four of them did. They were all in their underwear. _Lovely!_ I stood firmly in front of it, stretching my arms across the frames.

"What are you boys doing?" I asked calmly. I didn't want to start screaming and risk freaking them out.

John, clearly the leader in this situation, stepped forward. He looked like he was the most stoned out of the four of them. His eyes were ringed in deep, blood red and he had a slightly feral look to him. Gone where the shreds of niceness he had in his body; they were replaced with the evil, mean, scary John. I gulped but didn't back down.

"We're going out," he said. He took another step toward me and put his hand against the door, just over my shoulder.

"In your underwear?" I asked with a sceptical twist to my voice. John leaned forward until his face was inches from mine. I could smell whiskey on his breath. _Pot and alcohol- what a great combination! _

"It's called streaking, luv," was his reply. The smell of whiskey was so strong, I had the sudden urge to gag. "Ever heard of it?"

"You can't!" I practically screeched. I gave John a harsh push and he staggered back into Paul. I took a breath and kept my voice levelled. "You cannot go streaking. You are the goddamn Beatles! You can't go outside or people will recognize you. Then you're going to have dozens of fans and press people on your lawn tomorrow morning. Do you really want that?"

Paul, George and Ringo seemed to retract a little and get a little scared at what I had just sad. But not John, of course. No, John Lennon, the stubborn mule, defiantly stood his ground. He began to walk towards me again with a creepy smile dancing on his lips. I looked around me for something hard- just in case I had to hit him over the head. The other three were slowly backing away into the living room, now disinterested in the streaking idea.

"John…. You are drunk and stoned. Just go sit down or something, please?"

He laughed and took another step towards me. "No."

"Please, John?"

"No," he said, firmer. "You're coming with me."

Before I could process that or ask where I was going, he reached out and grabbed me, throwing me over his shoulder and heading for the stairs. I began yelling for the other Beatles and pounding on his back. He didn't budge and I began to fear the worst when he carried me in the direction of his room. With John Lennon, this could only mean one thing. I squirmed and screamed and pounded on him but he ignored me and shut the door behind me. A huge wave of relief swept over me when he placed me in a chair.

"You are not moving from this chair," John said, crossing his arms over his chest. He was getting scarier by the minute and I was staring to freak out. I was alone with the stoned, scary John. "Until you give me answers."

I stared at him with wide eyes. "What? Answers to what?"

John was silent for a few seconds. "You are gonna tell me everything you know about my- death."

I found myself shaking my head. "John-no. I can't- please-"

"You will," he said, cutting me off. "Or you're next stop is over there." He motioned his head towards the bed and I almost screamed.

Was he threatening me with what I think he was threatening me with? My mind travelled back to a time when my best friend Holly was helping me finish my Beatles puzzle.

-_flashback-_

_We were sitting in my room with the puzzle spread out on my bed. Holly was helping me finish it. She had bought it for me as a Christmas present and here we sat, seven months later, almost done with it. It was a black and white puzzle of the Beatles walking down the street in 1963. She was working on the George part and I was working on John. She kept asking me to find George pieces._

"_We gotta finish, John," I said. I was intently looking for a piece that just didn't seem to be there._

"_Fuck John," Holly replied, putting in a piece of George. I looked up at her and I could feel the smile spread across my face._

"_I will gladly fuck John."_

_To say that she thought my comment was funny was an understatement. She laughed so hard, she nearly cried. From that day forward, we would always remember it and it would be our inside joke._

I smiled at the memory as it replayed in my mind. It had been funny when I said it then but when John was standing a few feet away from you, stoned and drunk- it was a pretty scary thing to think about. I thought about Knox and how he told me not to say anything to John. I had to make a choice right then and there. Either keep quiet and face the angry John or spill my guts and face the angry Knox. I took one look at John and decided- I would just have to deal with Knox later.

"Okay, John, okay," I said, holding my hands up. He seemed to smile ever so slightly. _Of course you smile when you get what you want, you fucking stoner._

"And don't lie to me," he said in a warning tone. He walked over to his bed and sat down, waiting for me to begin.

I shook my head and cursed inwardly. I knew I was about to make a huge mistake but I couldn't do anything to stop it. Unless I wanted to end up in bed with John but somehow, I didn't think it would be fun. He was staring to get fidgety and I could see that the pot he had consumed was starting to make him paranoid. I wondered for a few moments if I could hit him over the head with the chair but taking in his size and mine, I decided against it. I tried one more time to get John to reconsider.

"John," I said. He looked up at me. "Do you really want this? Don't you think it would bother you more to know?"

He just simply shook his head. Once he set his mind to something, it was a mission to get him to see things in a way that wasn't his own. I knew that sober John would not want to know because it would screw him up royally inside. I just silently prayed to God that he would forget everything I was about to tell him. Again, I sighed and sent up a silent prayer to God. Then, I began.

"December 8th, 1980," I said. He face remained blank. "Does that mean anything to you?"

"No."

"That's the day. Umm… that's when-"

I stopped. I couldn't do it. I couldn't look at John Lennon and tell him that he was going to get shot by a psycho freak outside of his home.

"Spit it out, Quinn!" He yelled and I jumped.

"It's the day you get shot!" I snapped. The way his face fell made my heart sink into my stomach. He stood up for a moment, staggering, and walked over to the window. After a few seconds, he banged on the glass and I jumped.

"John…."

"No, it's fine," he replied stubbornly. Even though the room was dark, the moonlight from the window shone on his face and I could see the few tears that escaped his eyes.

"I'm so sorry. I didn't want you to find out."

He spun around. I expected him to look angry but his face was expressionless; like a slab of stone. Slowly, he began pacing the room and muttering to himself. He stopped suddenly though and turned back to me.

"You said two of us were dead in your time," John said. I nodded. I wasn't going to try and stop him this time. The sooner I talked, the faster this would be over. "Which one?"

I let out a trapped breath. "George."

"When?"

"November 29th, 2001."

"How?"

I closed my eyes and wiped the tears away quickly. "Cancer."

John nodded, taking it all in. I could see he was trying hard not to feel anything. "And Paul? Ringo?"

"They're still alive," I said. I thought I could detect a quick flash of jealousy on his face but it disappeared before I could look again. I slowly stood and walked away from the chair, positioning myself against the wall.

John stood still in the middle of the room, staring wide-eyed into the air in front of him. He was rocking back and forth slightly and muttering something I couldn't understand. I was truly scared and I didn't know whether to run out of the room or to do something to calm him down. I had witnessed the funny and happy effects of drugs and now the scary, dark effects.

"J-john…."

He seemed to snap to attention when I whispered his name. With a sudden burst of anger, John vaulted forward and grabbed the chair, holding it high above his head and smashing it against the floor with a loud grunt. It splintered and cracked down the middle, one of the legs snapping clean off and landing by my feet. I didn't move, didn't speak, didn't even breath as I watched him. He walked like a zombie towards the bed and threw himself facedown on the bed. After a few seconds of earth-shattering silence, he burst into tears.

I watched in silence. I could go over and try and comfort him but I knew this was something he had to deal with on his own. I slid down to the ground and sat there, watching and listening as John got all of his frustration out. I couldn't help crying silently myself; it was the most heart-breaking thing that I had ever witnessed in my life. And I was the one to blame for all of it. I deserved anything that Knox was going to do to me.

And then just like that, he had stopped. I quickly got up and made my way over to him to make sure he was all right. He had fallen asleep. I sighed with relief. I remembered the other three and headed for the door but stopped before I left the room. I turned back and began opening the drawers, looking for something to use to tie John to the bed with. (Minds out of the gutter, people!) I opened his beside table drawer and stumbled across a pair of handcuffs.

"I don't want to know why or how or what for," I said with a shudder. I grabbed his hand and handcuffed it to his bedpost. "Good night, John."

I shut John's bedroom door behind me and headed for the noise I heard floating up from the living room. It was almost three in the morning! Did this guys ever give it a rest? I ran down the stairs and into the living room where I almost died from what I saw- and not in the shirtless-John-standing-in-front-of-me way. It was more like the huge-mess-in-the-living-room-caused-by-three-stoned-Beatles way.

There were things thrown every which way possible and all different kinds of food spilled all over the floor. The kitchen table was tipped over and splashed with paint like; it looked some sort of battle took place. Chairs were flipped on their sides and the couch cushions were strewn haphazardly around the room. The three culprits were sitting around the coffee table. Somehow, they opened my password protected computer and were now watching _Across The Universe._

The Beatles were watching _Across The Universe _on my laptop. _They couldn't have picked one of the other 50 movies I have. Well, at least they didn't pick Help! And thank the Lord they had the good sense to put their pants back on!_

"I'm going to kill them," I said to myself, nodding my head. "I'm actually going to kill them."

George turned around and his face lit up when he saw me. He struggled to stand and when he did, he ran towards me, trapping me in a crushing bear hug. He was a little heavy for my small frame to hold up and I lost my balance ; sending us both tumbling down on the cushion-less couch. George burst into loud laughter and I thought Paul and Ringo would soon join in. But their eyes were glued to the computer screen and all the pretty colours had them enthralled.

"Ok George," I said, pushing him off me. "It's real nice to see you too." I pushed Paul and Ringo out of the way and closed the laptop. I ignored their groans of protest.

"We were watching that!" Ringo said, crossing his arms over his chest and pouting. He looked like a little boy.

"Yeah," Paul said, shaking his head at me and huffing. He too was acting a bit childish. I shifted the laptop over and sat on the coffee table. George came over and sat between the boys. He wanted to put his two cents in.

"I was enjoying that," he stated, wagging his finger at me. "You have no right to shut it off!"

_I am going to kill them. Or at least, smack them over the head with a frying pan._

"Boys," I said. I had to push Paul's arm away because he was trying to grab my necklace. "You shouldn't be touching other people's property without permission."

"George did it," Ringo said quickly.

Paul nodded. "Yup- he did. He opened it." George looked hurt.

Blaming each other? Really? I resisted the urge to smack my palm against my forehead. I think I could deal with three actual five year old kids better than I could three stoned Beatles.

"Don't blame, people," I said in my best teacher voice. "That's not very nice. Now listen, boys-"

Paul cut me off. "What was that on the- thing?" He was pointing to the computer. "What were we watching?"

"Yeah," Ringo said with wide eyes. He leaned in close to whisper as if it were a secret. "Those people were singing _our _songs!"

"And some other songs we didn't recognize," George added. He was trying to grab the computer again but I smacked his hand away.

I had already told John a bunch of information, why not tell them everything! I was being sarcastic but there was no other choice.

"It's a movie," I explained. "From the future. It's a musical with Beatles songs."

"Gear!" George and Ringo said in unison.

Paul clapped his hands like a happy child. "That's fab! A musical with our own songs! We must be very popular then."

I rolled my eyes. "You're popular now Paul. What makes you think you won't be in the future?"

"Well," Paul said. "Some bands are only popular once but then nobody ever remembers them years later."

I nodded. "Yes, that's true. But trust me when I say, the world will never forget the Beatles."

Paul smiled at that. "I'm glad. That's what we hoped for when we started the band really."

"Really?" I asked, with a smirk. Paul was beginning to get borderline philosophical again. George and Ringo were having a staring contest and looked like they wouldn't be moving for a while. I turned my full attention to Paul.

"Yes. See, this is what happened," Paul began. "It was John's band at first, really. He started it, see. Then I met him and we started hanging around with each other. We wrote songs and I showed him how to play the guitar, see. Anyway- one day we got to talking about what we wanted our band to be like. Do you know what we said?"

I shook my head. "No Paul. What?"

"Popularity."

"Popularity…." I repeated. Paul just nodded.

"Yes, Quinn," he said, grabbing my hand. "Popularity. We wanted people to love us and love our music. We wanted fame and money and lots of fans. We wanted to be one of those bands that people will know and remember forever."

I was smiling now. "You will, Paul. I live way into the future and I know."

That seemed to put his mind at ease and he happily jumped on George, causing him to loose the staring contest with Ringo. Before they could get an opportunity to begin fighting, I stood up and clapped to get their attention. All three turned to look at me.

"Do you boys want to do something fun?"

Three very eager and enthusiastic "yes's" met my ears and I smiled.

"You boys sit in a circle and stay still. I will be right back."

Quickly, I ran down into the basement and right away found what I was looking for. I grabbed it and took it back upstairs. Paul, George and Ringo were sitting in a cirlce, patiently waiting for me. I smiled. _This was too easy._

"Okay, boys," I said. "Close your eyes. And don't open them or the surprise will be ruined." They obeyed.

I walked over to them slowly and when I was sure they wouldn't open their eyes, I worked quickly. I wrapped the rope I found in the basement around them, over and over again and then tied it in a tight knot. There was no way they were moving from this spot for the rest of the night. I suppressed the urge to burst out laughing.

Ringo looked freaked out. "I don't like this."

"You tied us up!" Paul screamed in protest!

George tried to move. "Let us go, right now!"

"Boys," I said. "This is all part of the surprise. You have to keep your eyes closed. If you do, something special will happen. But if one of you opens your eyes, all of you will be eaten by a mean white tiger."

It was a mean thing to say to people on pot, I know but at least it shut them up. And now I knew they weren't going anywhere. I could at least go to sleep without worrying about the Beatles trying to go streaking or John trying to attack me. I left the three in the middle of the living room, closing the light and heading up the stairs. A quick peek into John's room assured me he was all right and finally, I was able to lie down in my own bed. I checked the clock on the wall.

3:25 AM.

_Ehh, I've gone to bed later. _

I was lying down comfortable in my bed. But I didn't try to fall asleep. I knew I was going to get one more visit before I could get some rest. I sat up, turning the lamp on and waiting. Ten minutes later, as I suspected, he popped up at the foot of my bed. He didn't look exactly happy.

I immediately felt a wave of dread wash over me but I ignored it. I got up from the bed and took a few steps toward him. I shifted my weight from one foot to the other; my anxiety growing by the minute. Knox didn't speak for a long while and it was beginning to get unbearable for me.

"Knox…."

"Don't," he growled with such anger in his voice that I stopped cold. I didn't even breathe, I was so scared.

I didn't expect what happened next. His hand reached out and he backhanded me square across the face. I wasn't ready for it and I fell backwards onto the bed. I was stunned- not so much from the pain but from the shock of Knox hitting me. I propped myself up on my elbow and looked up at him. He looked so much bigger and scarier from the way I was looking at him.

"I'm sorry," was all I could manage to say. Knox didn't seem to care. I swung my legs over the bed and stood. I prayed he wouldn't hit me again.

"You stupid, foolish girl," he finally said. The rage in his voice was so great that it made me shudder. "I explicitly told you not to tell him anything. And what do you go and do?"

"Knox, I am so sorry," I said, pleading. "I didn't want to tell him anything. He forced me, I swear. He was stoned and drunk and angry. God knows what he's capable of when he's like that."

Knox angrily shook his head. "You could have prevented it. You could have made something up. Anything but telling him the truth!"

I bit my lip and tears fell from my eyes once again. "I tried. I really did. I'm sorry!"

Knox was silent for a moment and when he turned back to me, I flinched, fearing another strike. But to my surprise, he just sighed; frustrated. When he spoke, his voice was a hushed whisper.

"I will make sure they don't remember anything from tonight," he said. "But this is the only time. If you mess up one more time, it will be on your head. You will have to deal with it. Do you understand me?"

I gulped and nodded. "Yes. Thank you."

"Don't thank me," Knox replied. "Thank your God that I gave you a second chance."

I nodded silently and he seemed to relax a little. After another long, awkward silence he said,

"Be ready very soon. The mission is nearly ready to begin."

"All right," I said with a nod. "Hey wait- Knox- can I ask you something?" He nodded and I thought over how to say the question. "Why John? I mean- I love the guy and he is a hero to me. But why did your order of time travellers or whatever pick him to save?"

"His death was one of those that should have never happened. A wife lost a husband, two sons lost their father. It was a horrible tragedy."

"Oh my God," I said suddenly. "Is John Jesus? I mean is he the same person. Cause you know- he had the whole Jesus beard thing going on and he was all for peace and stuff- is that why I have to save him?"

Knox shook his head and I could almost see a smile on his lips. "No. He is not Jesus Christ. He is just a man who was killed mercilessly." He sighed and looked out the window as if someone was calling him. "I must go now. Be prepared for when I come."

There was a flash of light and when all settled, Knox was no where to be seen. I lay back down on the bed and stared at the ceiling. I was so tired and it felt like this was just beginning. I sighed and shut my eyes.

Good night.

…

**A/N: **Wowz…. Chappie 7 all nice and done! I hope it was up to good standards and that you all liked it. Just a little note: the flashback with the puzzle actually happened a little while ago with my friend and I. Our inside joke now is the "I will gladly fuck John" thing. And I'm happy to report that the puzzle is done! Ok anyway, thanks for reading and please, please, please, please review! :D - Addie


	8. The Beatles Home Show

**A/N: **Hello there everyone! What's up? Lol :P I got back from my trip to Ohio and it was fantastic! I'm excited to be back and writing again! Thank you for all your reviews which make me feel great! So, again, thank you for that! There is only a few chapters left in this story, by the way. But if you guys like my stuff, I promise I will write another story. Maybe a sequel where the Beatles come forward in time. What do you think? Hmm…. Anyway, here be chappie 8.

**Disclaimer: **Yeah. No.

…

**In My Life….Stuff Happens: Chapter 8: The Beatles Home Show:**

At first, I thought the loud, annoyed screams were in my dreams. I tried ignoring them but the stupid things wouldn't stop. Finally, I couldn't ignore them any longer and I felt myself swimming to the surface of consciousness and my eyes snapped open. That's when I realized the shouts were coming from inside the house.

"QUINN! WHAT THE FUCK! GET ME OFF OF HERE!"

"HEY! HELP! UNTIE US!"

"LET US GO!"

"COME ON, NOW!"

I sat up suddenly, remembering the past night's events. My hand flew to my mouth as I gasped and then immediately giggled. Soon, I was doubled over with laughter, stuffing my face into the pillow as a futile attempt to stifle my laughter. I stood, letting myself stretch. The screaming, tied-up lads would just have to wait for me to get dressed and ready. I felt a smile spread across my face as I headed for the door. It was evil for me to make them wait but- they'd get over it.

"Quinn! I know you can bloody well hear me!" came John's voice from the other room. I didn't answer.

I was quietly walking from the bathroom, trying not to make sounds and attract attention. But John saw me from his bed and started screaming a million different threats at me. Stifling more giggles, I walked into his room. He was sitting up in his bed, one hand still attached to the bed post. He looked way beyond pissed. I wondered how long he had been awake; it had been nearly noon when I woke up.

"Hi John," I said with a grin. He scowled at me.

"Why the fuck am I hand-cuffed to the fuckin' bed?"

I shrugged. "Maybe one of your girlfriends came and had her way with you."

"Don't give me that!" he spat angrily. He pointed an accusatory finger at me. "You did this! Why?"

"Because you were stoned!" I said, my own anger beginning to appear. "Out of your fucking minds! I couldn't let you get up and try streaking again!"

John cocked his head to the side as if he was trying to think. "We went streaking?"

"Almost!" I replied with disgust. "And oh yeah- you dragged me up here and almost had some fun of your own!"

"What?" A look of shock flashed across his face for a second. He tried grinning to cover it up. "Oh- uh- well- I'm- sorry."

I nodded and half-smiled. An apology from the great Lennon? Interesting. I moved forward and grabbed the keys from the night table drawer and quickly unlocked the cuffs. He grabbed his wrist, rubbing the red ring around it. He picked up the cuffs, swinging them around his finger; the trademark Lennon grin appearing on his face.

"Been looking through my drawers, then?"

I rolled my eyes. "Relax. I was only looking for something to tie you up so you'd stay put." I thought a moment. "I know that I probably don't want to know buy why are there cuffs in your drawer?"

John's grin grew. "Well you know- there are some really kinky birds out there. And lots of fun to be had."

"Gross," I said, pretending to gag. I headed for the door. "Come on- let's go untie the other three before I learn any more about you and get scarred for life."

John chuckled and I stuck my tongue out at him. I had to wait for him to find his pants and shirt which took another five minutes. I turned away as he did so, trying not to blush or squeal. Finally, when he felt himself presentable enough, John and I headed downstairs. When I saw the other three tied in a circle, I burst out laughing- John joining in a few seconds later.

"It's about time," Paul said. He didn't look very amused and I had to force back a laugh. John, who could always be counted upon, leaned against the wall and with that smirk said:

"So she got to you lads too did she?"

"_You _tied us up?" Ringo asked incuriously, his big eyes shining with confusion. _He really could be cute sometimes….. Ok, Quinn, stop._

"Quinn? You?" Paul said, his eyes nearly popping from their sockets. I nodded and he huffed and if he could cross his arms, he would. "We thought John did it for one of his stupid pranks."

John took on a mock afflicted look, his face a mask of fake hurt and pain. He staggered forward with his hand over his heart. "Me, lads? How could you say such a thing?"

He laid it on even thicker when neither of the other three laughed. John staggered over to the couch, letting out moans of pain and finally collapsed onto it, pretending to die and punctuating it with exaggerated coughs. When he flung himself over the couch, crossing his eyes and sticking out his tongue, it had become inevitable. All three Beatles and myself burst into laughter. You could always count on Lennon for a laugh or two….or twelve.

"Can you untie us, please?" George asked when the laughter stopped. I nodded and sprung forward, pulling John off the couch and making him help me.

"Sorry, boys," I said, undoing a rather tight not. _Jeez, I guess I could tie knots better than I thought. _"I didn't want to but it was the only way to keep you guys from going anywhere!"

George stood and stretched, making a funny noise as he did. He rubbed his arms where the rope had been. I felt sorry for tying them up but even I had to admit, it was kind of funny. I mean, come on, three tied up Beatles and handcuffed John Lennon….. _Oh okay- do not even go there, gutter mind. _I shook my thoughts from my head and focused my attention on George who was speaking to me.

"Why did you tie us up?" He asked, scratching his head as if trying to remember the night's events. He couldn't. _Gee, I wonder why. _I put my hands on my hips- Peter Pan-style - and gave them a playful chastising look.

"Do you guys remember anything from last night?"

All I got in return was four blank faces with confusion clouding their eyes. I sighed and motioned for them to sit down. I sat on the coffee table, positioning myself so they could all see me. I took another look at their confused faces and had to put my head down while I laughed to myself. It was like being in a Beatle-esque version of _The Hangover. _

"Ok," I said, looking up. "So- you are certain you don't remember anything? Not one single thing?"

"Well, I'm pretty sure we got stoned," Paul offered. I resisted the urge to call him out on his obviousness. "And then- well- I can't remember anything."

The other three grunted in agreement. I shook my head and sighed. Where would I begin? There were some things that I needed to leave out- John questioning me about his death and the three watching _Across The Universe. _I smiled as the realization came over me. I could tell them only what I wanted and nothing more. Since I was pretty sure Knox wiped their memories clean, I could only tell them the things they did that would not ruin the future.

Theirs _and_ mine.

"It seems we went streaking," John said with that grin. "Or- tried to anyway."

"We did what?"

I looked over to George and nodded, not even bothering to hide my smile anymore. I began from the beginning, giving them the condensed version of what went down the previous night. I had to say, as bad as it was, I enjoyed watching the looks of shock on their faces when they heard about what they did. I tactfully left out John's taking me to his bedroom, figuring it would only cause a fight between them. And even though I had always heard of fights between them, I wasn't particularly interested in seeing the Beatles punch each other. When I was finally finished, they all looked worn out but thankfully, my retelling of the night's events hadn't caused them remember anything.

"I can't believe we did all that," Paul said, shaking his head in disbelief. "Sorry you had to deal with us."

"Hey," I said with a shrug. "People in this time say that the Beatles doing drugs are a bad influence on the kids who love you but- after seeing what I saw last night- Christ, I'd never do drugs."

"No one knows we do this," John said, narrowing his eyes. "You said- people in this time. What people?"

I smacked my palm against my head. "Ahh shit!"

George raised his eye-brows. "What?"

"FUCK!" I swore, a bit too loudly and the four of them jumped. I slammed my fist down on the coffee table. "I keep saying things about the future!" I sighed, shaking my head. "Whatever. It doesn't matter. Let's just say that later, drugs become the things to do, you do it and then the world finds out and….. yeah. ."

"We don't tell people to follow us," John grumbled. "Not our fault if they do."

I nodded. "That's true, John. But hey- you wanted to be famous, buddy. Thus is the price of fame. You got fans and they are going to want to do what you do and say what you say and all that. Know what my advice is?"

"What?" John asked, the grin dancing on his lips.

"Get the fuck over it."

The roared with laughter and I chuckled, enjoying seeing them happy. But they wouldn't be happy for long. I looked around the living room, taking in the utter disaster that once was called the living room. I felt the evil, mischievous smile creep across my face as I prepared to tell the Beatles what to do next. John noticed my grin right away and looked slightly worried- probably because he recognized it as the one he usually made when he was thinking of doing something trouble-some. I leapt off the coffee table and stood, motioning across the room. I could sense the Beatles looking at me worriedly, scared of something I was about to do or say. I never had such power and it felt kind of awesome.

"Do me a favour, boys," I said with a smile. "And don't worry, I'm not asking you to kill someone." They seemed to visibly relax.

"What do you want us to do, luv?"

"Glad you asked, Ringo," I replied, still holding me seemingly sweet smile. "Look around the room. Go a head, take a look around."

Slowly, they looked around, taking in the ruined living room. I saw their expressions of mixed horror and shock and suppressed my own urge to laugh. I wasn't so much laughing at their expressions but at what I was going to say next. I could only imagine their reactions and if it was that funny in my head, then surely the real thing would be downright hilarious.

"What do you want us to do?" Paul asked nervously.

"Yeah," John echoed. "What the fuck?"

I felt my smile grow wider, if that were even possible. "You boys made this mess."

"And?" George asked, waiting for more.

"And- you boys are going to be the ones to clean it up."

My ears were met with groans of protest and disbelieving faces. John reacted just as I expected him too.

"Fuck that," he said, shaking his head. "I ain't no fuckin' maid!"

"Oh- I beg to differ," I said, standing my ground. "You boys _are _going to clean this."

John came and stood in front of me, towering over me. His arms were crossed over his chest. Stubborn Lennon would stand his ground too. "Or what?"

_But could his stubbornness match mine? _

"Or I will go straight to your record producers," I said. "I will prove that I am from the future and I will make sure to convince them that all your next records are crap and that they should just drop you now."

John's mouth slightly dropped open but I could see the small hint of respect in his eyes. "Would you do that to the Beatles?" he asked, a small smirk pulling at his mouth. "To your favourite band in the entire world?"

"Ehh- I like the Stones, too," I said, shrugging nonchalantly. John nodded at me, some anger on his face but some respect still in his eyes.

I walked past John and grabbed a magazine from the table and headed for the back door. I opened the door and when I was halfway out, I turned back to face them.

"Oh and I'll be on the back porch if you need me," I said. "Reading a magazine and getting some sun. I'm hungry- maybe you guys should get some pizza. Call out or something. Oh look the Beatles are on the cover." I waved the magazine in the air, showing them themselves on the front cover. "Come get me when your done."

As I shut the door, I heard the loud cursing of John and I laughed out loud. I settled myself down on the lawn chair and opened the magazine. I so loved having time to myself- especially when I was making a bunch of men do work that was usually dubbed as woman's work. More so in this time. I made myself comfortable, letting the sun wash over me as I read the cover article about the Beatles and how their music was affecting the teenagers of the day.

_Ahh now this was more like it._

…

I had been sitting on the backyard porch for over an hour and a half and still no sign of any of the Beatles. I was beginning to get a little bored now. I read the magazine from cover to cover two times and could probably recite it by now. I wasn't much of a sit-outside-of-the-sun person, especially when there were bees and all sorts of creepy bugs flying around. I decided to give it another two minutes before I went busting through the door to see what exactly they were doing in there. It could be either one of two things: They were still cleaning or they were goofing off. I hoped it was the first one but my guy told me it was probably the second.

I had my back to the door and I didn't hear anything so when someone put their hands over my eyes, I jumped and threw the magazine that was in my hand.

"Guess who?"

_Who else?_

"Hi John," I said, twisting around in the chair until he took his hands away. I was facing the back of the chair now, looking up at John. He was looking incredibly sexy as usual except now he was covered in dust and dirt. "Been working?"

He half-scowled, half-grinned. "Yeah I have." He walked around and sat in the chair next to mine. I turned myself back to the normal sitting position and looked at him. He was brushing dust from his sleeve. "I thought becoming famous meant you didn't have to do any of this shit!"

"Get over it you lazy shit," I said, waving my hand at him. "Sometimes you just gotta do work."

"A woman's work?" John asked, scoffing. I turned to him suddenly and I could feel the fire burning from my eyes. He looked amused. "What?"

"Fuck you!" was all I could say. He laughed and I slapped his arm. "You certainly have the man's attitude of this time!"

John shrugged. "What the fuck's your problem now?"

"What?," I said. "You think women are only good for cooking and cleaning? You think that we don't have brains? You think the big, strong men can't be bothered to do anything like that? Well, fuck yourself then! You and your whole mankind! You sometimes make me sick! You know that in the future we have women doctors and astronauts and teachers and all that! Women matter. Probably more than men! SO HA!"

I was worn out after that and I collapsed back into the chair, crossing my arms over my chest and trying to catch my breath. John looked like a cross between shocked, amused and a tiny bit scared.

_Good! Serves the bastard right!_

John stood with his hands up in surrender. "All right then. How about you come inside now. We're finished." He walked back inside and a few minutes later, I followed.

I had to say that I was pretty damn impressed. The whole living room looked immaculate; almost as if nothing had ever happened. I could tell that they had washed the floors, vacuumed, dusted and even polished some things. I smiled to myself. They had gone all out. And now they were all slumped over each other on the couch; tired and sore from all the work. And who said the Beatles couldn't do anything like this?

"Well," I said with my hands on my hips. "For a bunch of men, you didn't do that bad."

John smirked. "Gee thanks."

"Oh come on," I said with a wave of my hand. "Don't be so sarcastic, Lennon! You did good. For a bunch of men, like I said."

"Don't we get some sort of reward?" George asked.

"Sure," I said with a nod and smile. "How about some cake after lunch?"

Four loud shouts of agreement met my ears and I laughed. I was walking by the couch, looking for a place to sit and John grabbed my arm, pulling me on top of him so I was sitting in his lap. I squirmed a bit but didn't try to get up. _Hey, a girl can have some fun now can't she?_

"You gonna make us a cake?" asked Ringo excitedly, clapping his hands.

I shook my head. "Not really. You boys are. Well, you're gonna help me anyway."

"Us?" Paul sounded incredulous. "You want us to help you bake?"

"Yes, Paul It's not that hard. You put some stuff into a bowl and mix it. Oh wow!"

John grumbled behind me. "You make us clean and now you expect us to bake too? How much women work do you want us to do?"

"John, dear?" I said in a sweet tone, turning to look at him.

"What?"

"Fuck yourself."

…

To say that the rest of the day and night went by nicely would be a bit of a lie. When you spend a day with the Beatles, there is always some craziness to be expected. And craziness was something I got plenty of. But I can't lie and say it wasn't fun. The days I had already spent in 1965 were the best days I had ever had in my life. They were filled with fun and laughter (okay and some scary 'stoned' adventures) and of course, the Beatles. That was enough to last a lifetime. I almost didn't want to leave and go back to my time.

The rest of the day was uneventful for all intents and purposes but it was a hell of a lot of fun. After we had eaten a pizza we had delivered from the Italian restaurant we went to the first night I was here, we started to bake the cake. One thing to know: The Beatles + Baking Supplies = Help! (And not the movie _Help!, _just meaning that you'd better get help because of the mess that they will make). I suggested we bake a simple chocolate cake and when we got started, everything was going smoothly.

Of course, it was never that simple. When I asked George to kindly hand me the flour, John started being an idiot and grabbing it from him. The end result was a big explosion, causing all of us to be covered in the white substance. John started to laugh in his maniacal way and George got so mad, he whacked him in the face with a half-full bag of sugar. Pretty soon, Paul and Ringo joined in and I had a full-scale food fight on my hands. I was fed up with them though and I just continued on measuring and pouring all the ingredients. Just as I slid the cake in the oven, they had finished with the fight.

I was absolutely covered in flour, sugar, cocoa, vanilla and everything else that went into the cake. The four of them looked even worse and the kitchen- even more worse! But I wasn't worried. They were the ones who had to clean it while I went up to take a shower. I wish I could have taken a picture of their reactions when they realized they had to clean again. When I had taken my shower and got dressed, I came down to find the kitchen clean and the cake just finished. The Beatles were excited to eat it but I told them only after dinner.

The rest of the night was pretty uneventful. We ate a nice dinner that I cooked. Oh John had his fun with that one, seeing me in the kitchen over the stove. I almost threw a pot of boiling water at him but I opted for the empty pizza box instead. It hit him square in the face and after that he went away and stopped bothering me. Thankfully they liked my dinner and the rest of the night, we spent in the living room watching a movie. I let them persuade me into watching a movie on my computer. I picked _Rebel Without A Cause _which was something already released in this time so I figured it wasn't as bad.

But I was still waiting for one thing. One thing I knew was coming and that I knew I couldn't avoid. And so when I was just about to climb into bed, it came. I stood and leaned against the wall; waiting.

"I guess I know why you're hear," I said to Knox. "Is it time?" I braced myself but deep down, I already knew the answer.

"Tomorrow," Knox said, "is the day you will go and complete the mission."

I sucked in a breath. "When? I mean- well, what time?"

"You can spend one last day with them," Knox replied. "Then when I come for you, we will leave and never come back."

I nodded, trying to hold back the tears. "Okay."

Knox looked like he was going to say something but then quickly decided against it. I was looking down for a moment and when I looked back up again, I found that I was alone in the room. I wiped away the tears that escaped my eyes and climbed into my bed. Tomorrow would be the day that would determine the rest of John's life.

I just hoped I was up for the challenge.

…

**A/N: **Yay! Done this chapter! Finally! Sorry about the wait and I hope it was worth it! Please review and tell me what you think! - Addie


	9. The Long and Winding Goodbye

**A/N: **Hello everyone! Boy, I have to say that I never get tired of reading your awesome reviews! You guys are such confidence builders; I can't even begin to tell you. I love you all lol! :D I'm even sad that this story is ending. BUT—fear not because there will be a sequel, I promise you that! Oh and **CrazyCatie**—there's a little shout-out in here for ya. See if you can find it. :P Anyway, here is chapter 9. I hope you enjoy it!

**Disclaimer: **One day, I'm gonna say 'Why yes, I do own the Beatles and ATU.' Ahh well…. No, I don't own them.

…

**In My Life….Stuff Happens: Chapter 9: The Long and Winding Goodbye:**

After a happy breakfast the next morning, I knew I couldn't wait any longer and so I told the Beatles that this was my last day with them in 1965. I felt even worse when I saw the expressions on their faces. I wished I could stay forever and just throw my life in 2010 behind. But that was just my irrational teenage mind telling me that and despite what my heart cried out, I knew that I had to listen to my rational brain. Besides, I had a mission ahead of me that I had to complete.

"Do you have to go?" Ringo asked. He had such puppy dog eyes and it pulled at my heart. "We kinda like having you around."

I smiled. "I like being around. But this isn't my time. I have to go."

"Wait," John said suddenly. He had been quiet since I had told them the news; an unreadable expression on his face. But now he wore a look of skepticism. "How do you know you have to go back? You said you were just dropped here and you didn't know how you even got here."

_Shit. I never thought of that._

John was right. I had never even thought of how I would explain it to them. I certainly couldn't tell them about Knox. If I did, he'd probably kill me this time and then I wouldn't be able to save John and also wouldn't be able to go back to 2010 because I'd be dead. That would majorly suck. I took and deep breath and racked my brain for a suitable explanation; one that would both satisfy the Beatles and Knox.

"That's a good question, John," I began, still stalling. "Umm… well…. See… the thing is…" I sighed and tried again. "I can't you, okay? Let's just say I was approached by someone who sent me here and now I was told I have to go back. If I say any more, he'll get mad and things for me will suck. Okay?"

Thank the good Lord that they accepted it. John seemed like he wanting to press the issue but decided against it and just slumped unhappily back in his chair. I felt an oncoming depression when I saw their faces. Even the usually happy Paul looked completely sad. I had to fix this so they would be happy again and so I wouldn't break down crying from my own sadness of having to leave.

"Come on guys," I said, forcing a smile. "Cheer up will ya!"

"But you're leaving!" Paul protested. "How can we be happy?"

_Oh, my heart. I'm gonna cry, I'm gonna cry….Ok Quinn, no crying! You don't want to scare the Beatles._

"I know," I said. "But—it's ok. Instead of sitting around and moping, we can have some fun. You know, have a nice going away party."

"Party?" John's eyes lit up slightly at that. I smirked at him.

"No smoking anything or alcohol, Lennon," I answered and he chuckled. I so loved calling him by his last name. _Yeah, I'm weird, get over it._

"What do you want to do?" asked George. He looked sad and I thought it made him look so sweet and adorable.

I shrugged. "I don't know, Georgie. Yes, I just called you Georgie." I sat there for a few seconds, thinking. I smiled when the idea hit me. "I got it!"

"What?" John asked with that smirk. "You want us to strip for you or something?"

"No!" I scoffed. "Okay well that would be nice but…. I mean—no. How about—you guys sing for me? I mean hey—I never got to see the Beatles perform live."

"Aww, I don't know," John said. "We haven't practiced and—"

"Oh shut-up, John," Paul interjected. "We can sing some songs for Quinn can't we boys?"

"Yeah!" George and Ringo chorused. John smiled finally and nodded.

"What song shall you have then?" John asked, standing up.

I sat back and thought for a moment. They only had a few albums out at this time so I didn't have a very wide selection to choose from. I decided that something from _A Hard Day's Night _would do and perhaps a song or two from _Beatles for Sale. _Despite my sadness of this being my last day with the Beatles, I was beginning to get excited. They would actually sing in front of me. This would be even better than any concert I could ever attend.

"Hmm," I said, still thinking. "Okay, how about three songs?"

John looked to the others and they all agreed. I clapped my hands happily. This was going to be so amazing. John chuckled at me as I bounced excitedly in my seat.

"How about—_Eight Days a Week _and uh… _A Hard Day's Night_ and…. Umm… hmm, what else…. I don't know…. _Please Please Me._"

"Fair enough," Paul said with a grin. "Just give us a few to set up, luv."

I nodded and stood. "Sure. I'm just gonna go upstairs and pack my bag. I'll be back in fifteen minutes."

I excused myself from the room and left them to set up and I made my way to the room that had quickly become mine. I couldn't believe how much I was going to miss this small room in this little house. I had been here for more or less a week now and I had grown attached. Maybe it was not so much to the house or even to 1965 but rather the Beatles themselves. How many times had I wished so hard that I could have met them and hung out with them. I never dreamed that I would get my wish. And how it was all over and I had to go back.

I sighed to myself as I stuffed everything back into my bag. Despite my reaction to them at first, I stuffed the dresses the boys bought me into my bag along with the shoes and the other t-shirts. They would be my fond memories of my week in 1965 with the best band in history. Just as I was zipping up the full knapsack, I heard the door open and I spun around to see who it was. John stood in the doorway, looking unsure. He had another unreadable expression on his face and I couldn't tell what he was feeling. He silently walked in and sat on the bed.

"I thought you guys were setting up," I said in an effort to start the conversation.

"I'm done," John answered. "It doesn't take long to set-up a guitar."

_My, were we snippy this morning._

I sat next to him, dangling my feet over the side of the bed. I had the urge to lay my head on his shoulder. I did. He didn't seem to mind so I kept it there.

"What's the matter John?"

I felt him shrug. "Nothing."

I lifted my head off his shoulder and turned to face him. "Don't give me that, Lennon. I know something is bothering you. Tell me."

"You're leaving," he said simply. It was a simple statement, yes but it held so much power and feeling in it. I almost wanted to cry.

"I'm sorry," was all I could offer. "But I don't belong in this time."

John continued as if he hadn't heard me. "It's ok. Everyone leaves me. I'm fucking used to it by now. My father, my uncle, my mother, Stu- I guess I should just expect it by now."

"No, John," I said, putting my hand over his. I felt like bursting into tears. "Don't think that way. All those people who left you didn't do it by choice. They died, John."

"My father didn't," he said coldly. I nodded at that.

"I know," I said softly. "But I am not choosing to leave. Please don't feel hurt or mad or anything like that. Trust me, John, I will always remember you. Everyone who loves you in my time always will. You are more loved than you even know—more than you'll ever know. Take that to heart."

John shrugged. "Maybe. But they love me for my music; my image. They love John Lennon the beatle. What about the man? I know I'm pretty much an asshole and what did you call it. A-?"

"Man-whore," I finished with a small chuckle.

"Yeah, that."

"Okay," I said, gripping his hand more firmly and making him look at me. "Listen to me carefully, John. You may have been an asshole. And to put it frankly, you still will be in your coming years. You can be downright mean and a pig and a man-whore."

"Gee thanks," he said sarcastically and rolled his eyes. "I feel better now."

"Shut up and let me finish!" I snapped and he stopped talking. "People in my time—your fans—know how you were in life. They know all this about you and still love the man. Well, most people," I added, thinking of my friend Catie. "But that's no matter. Because they know what happened to you and how you were treated in life. And they also know how you change when you get older and how amazing you become. Don't worry John. I can assure you that people love John the beatle and the man." I looked down and barely whispered the next part. "I know I do."

John didn't speak after this. We both sat there in the still silence for the next few moments. What happened next was indescribably amazing and as it happened, it was if it was all in slow-motion. It was something I knew I would remember for the rest of my life. John lifted my face with his hand until I was looking into his beautiful eyes. I held my breath for a moment, knowing exactly what was about to happen. He leaned in close and for a few glorious moments, we kissed. It was like an explosion of awesome. When he pulled back, he laughed at the expression on my face.

"I guess I don't need to ask how that was," he said with the smirk. All that came out of my mouth were incoherent squeals which only made him laugh. We could hear the others calling from the bottom of the stairs. He grabbed my hand and pulled me towards the door. "Let's go before the lads have a bird."

Once we had walked into the living room, I felt surprised at how changed everything looked. They had pushed the couch and the coffee table against the far wall to make room for their instruments. The living room now looked like a stage with its microphones, guitars attached to amplifiers and Ringo's huge drum kit behind it all. I was taken away. John led my to a chair positioned in front and sat me down. I bounced like an excited child, waiting for them to start.

"Wait," I said. "Before you start. Can I request two more songs?"

"Sure," Paul said with a smile. "Which other ones, luv?"

I grinned. "Umm… _Happy Just to Dance With You _and uhh…. _Boys._ I want to hear George and Ringo too!"

George and Ringo seemed to both blush a bit but they agree happily. When they began singing, my heart was soaring. I couldn't believe I was literally two feet in front of the Beatles and they were singing to me. They were actually singing just to me. Let me tell you, it was the best feeling in the entire world. I stood up and clapped after each song and when they took a bow after their fifth song, I cheered. It was amazing.

"That-," I said, practically breathless, "Was the best thing I had ever seen in my entire life."

"Oh get on!" Ringo said with a wave of his hand. He stood and stretched.

"Seriously," I replied, nodding my head vigorously. "I knew you guys were amazing but man—you guys are fucking awesome!"

The four of them laughed, very much enjoying the compliments I was showering down on them. After I helped clean up their instruments and pack move them back down into the basement, we went out to sit on the porch. Paul called to order some lunch from a restaurant so we really didn't have to do anything. The weather was really nice and so we sat, enjoying the sun. It was long though before I was pestered with questions. Again.

"So," Paul said. "Since you're leaving, can you tell us a bit more about the future?"

I sighed and shook my head. These men would never learn, would they? I thought about it and decided that I could tell them a few things. Nothing informative or future wrecking of course; just safe, frivolous things. As long as it didn't anger Knox and cause him to come after me like he did after the stoned incident, I was good.

"All right," I agreed. "Only little things though! I came this far without changing history and I'd like to keep it that way! And for Christ's sake, don't ask if you're popular in the future because you know you are!"

"Who's the other that dies?" John said. I gave him a disapproving look. "When you fucked up that time you said two of us are dead by your time."

I shook my head. "Not a suitable question. We are not going to talk about death, all right?"

John slumped back a bit and crossed his arms. "Fine."

"Okay," I said, sitting back and putting my legs over John's so I could stretch out on the chair. He didn't move. "What else? Can it be inventive? And you know- not about yourselves perhaps?"

"That's fair," Paul replied with a nod of his head. He stoked his chin as he thought. "Hmm…. Ooh! I got one! What's the technology like in the future?"

I laughed. "Well it ain't what you see in movies. We don't have flying cars and all that junk. But the technology is pretty cool. They make little music players that you can bring with you anywhere and listen to your music. It's pretty cool. The most recent invention is called an iPod. Oh and the computer you saw that I have? It's wicked too. You can look up information about anyone, communicate with people, watch movies, listen to music—so many possibilities. Yeah…."

The Beatles were impressed with that. I knew that maybe that was a little bit much for them to know but it couldn't hurt their future in any way if they did know about it. I loved sitting and talking with them. It hurt me so much to have to leave. I sighed and shook the thoughts out of my head. It would be better if I just stopped thinking about it.

"Hello! Quinn!" I snapped back to reality when I saw John's hand in front of my face. "What?"

"Day dreaming?" John asked with a smirk. I shook my head.

"Nah, just thinking."

"About?"

"About stuff," I said with a shrug. "I don't know. I just don't want to leave."

"Don't you like your life back in 2010?" George asked, looking a bit confused. I nodded.

"Yes, I love my life," I said. "I couldn't ask for anything better. It's just—well I always said that I would love to live in the '50s or the '60s. Every one said I should have been born then. And sometimes I feel like I was born in the wrong time and that I'm sort of out place in 2010. Being here- it's just amazing. And to top it all off, hanging out with the Beatles is fun. I mean come on, I'm practically sitting on John Lennon!"

John chuckled but Paul suddenly looked pensive and a bit peeved. I asked him what was wrong.

"Well," he said. "Why is it always John with you? You always say that you can't believe you are sitting with John Lennon and all that rubbish. What about the rest of us?"

I was taken aback for a few seconds. "Well—it's not like I don't care about you guys! I love all of the Beatles! Paul, when I got tickets to your concert in 2010, I freaking cried! And George and Ringo—I love you guys! John over here- is my favorite Beatle, that's all."

Paul seemed to relax at that. John nudged my leg and I turned my gaze to him.

"And?" he said.

I looked around. "And what?" His eye brows rose suggestively and I rolled my eyes. "And he's really sexy. You happy now?"

John nodded. "Very. You could go on."

"And you can fuck yourself!"

John and the others chuckled and I joined in; half-heartedly though, the sadness boring down on me more and more as the day went on. We spent the next half hour talking before the food arrived. Actually, I spent the next half hour talking—telling them about the future. They made me talk about everything from movies to music to school to pets to anything you could possibly imagine. I was happy for the break when the food came and we sat around the table on the porch to eat. Paul had ordered some stir fry dish from a Chinese place and it was great.

"What's your favorite album of ours?" Paul asked suddenly. "I mean, from the ones we have released at this time."

"Well, out of all of your albums," I said, thinking about it, "I would have to pick _A Hard Day's Night. _It is my favorite early Beatles album. I think it's pretty great."

"How many albums do we make?" John asked.

I smirked. "797."

"Oh come on!"

"Sorry John," I said, stuffing some rice and chicken into my mouth. "Nice try though."

We act the rest of our meal and talked about random things like Buddy Holly and other awesome musical figures. After we ate, the strangest thing happened. Paul was saying something and then he just froze; mid-sentence. All four of them froze as well as everything around us like the birds and the bugs. I stood, unsure of what was happening. I had seen this in shows like _Charmed _and _Buffy the Vampire Slayer. _I sensed that Knox would probably be popping up soon.

I was right.

"Ms. Collins."

I spun around quickly. Knox was standing by the stairs of the porch, staring at me. Despite the warmness of the sun, I shivered. I started to get a weird sinking feeling in my stomach. This was the moment I had been dreading all day.

"Hi," I said.

"You know why I'm here." It was a statement, not a question.

"I know."

"I will be waiting outside the front door," he explained. "Say your goodbyes and then come out."

I could feel myself beginning to break down. "Does it have to be now?"

"It does."

I nodded and sucked in a shuddering breath. "All right. Please- just give me a few minutes."

Knox nodded and disappeared around the side of the small house. I took a few more deep breaths before heading back to the table. As soon as I sat down, everything unfroze.

"- which is why I love that song," Paul said, finishing what he had been saying before Knox froze everything. He noticed my look right away. "Quinn—what's the matter?"

"I have to go," I whispered. It was so low, I wasn't sure if I had said it at first. But the looks on their faces told me that they heard me well and clear.

"Right now?" John asked. He looked like he had when we were talking upstairs. I nodded, swatting away the tears that were threatening to fall.

"Don't ask how," said, I half-pleading. "Just know that I have to go. You know I really don't want to but—well—I just have to." I stood quickly, screaming over my shoulder as I went inside, "I have to go grab my bag, meet me inside!"

The truth was that I couldn't hold in the tears anymore and I didn't want them to see me start crying like a little girl. I ran up the stairs two at a time, taking a moment to sit on the bed and catch my breath. I couldn't go downstairs and say goodbye to the Beatles like this. I didn't want to depress them or make them feel worse than I'm sure they already did. I sucked in a few calming breaths, wiped away any fallen tears, picked up my bag and left the room. I turned back at the doorway, giving a nod as I looked around. It had been fun.

The four of them were waiting at the bottom of the stairs. I forced myself to smile big as I walked down to meet them. It was time for the goodbye. It was something I was trying to avoid all day but it couldn't be avoided anymore. I stepped down onto the first floor and put my bag down on the floor.

"So it's time to go," I said. "Ughh! I am going to miss you guys so much, you know that?"

I stepped forward and hugged Ringo first. "Keep rocking out on those drums, Ringo!"

Ringo smiled. "I will. You be good now, luv."

I nodded and hugged George. I expected him to be shy but he hugged me tightly. "Don't be so shy Georgie! But never change, okay?"

"I won't," he promised. Next, I hugged Paul. He squeezed me tight.

"Aww Paul," I said, holding back tears. "You just go on being awesome forever okay? Because you seriously rock!"

Paul smiled as I pulled away from him. "You… rock too, Quinn! Just don't forget us!"

I chuckled. "I highly doubt I will, Paul!"

I took a deep breath before I wrapped my arms around John. It was the longest hug out of all of them. He didn't seem to want to let go and either did I. But we had to and when we did, I knew I had tears on my face. I wiped them off quickly. I could have been mistaken but I was pretty sure I saw tears in John's eyes too.

"John…." I began. I almost choked up for a moment but I forced my voice to sound natural. "I will never forget you especially. You—you are just amazing and special. Promise me you will never forget it."

John nodded. I picked up my bag from the floor and slung it over my shoulder. I opened the door, wanting to turn back but knowing I shouldn't. I was about ready to close the door behind me when I suddenly felt someone tug my shoulders. I was turned around abruptly. John was standing before me. He leaned down and kissed me quickly. He flashed me that Lennon grin when he pulled away from me.

I smiled. "Goodbye John. Paul, George, Ringo." I turned and shut the door behind me quickly.

Knox was standing at the end of the steps waiting for me. I walked down to join him. He saw my sadness but didn't comment. He held out his hand towards me and I grabbed it.

"It's time now," he said. I nodded.

And in a flash of light, we were gone.

…

**A/N: **WOW! Lol sorry, I just can't believe how fast I wrote this chapter! Anyway…. Thanks for reading and please review, telling me what you think! - Addie


	10. The Beginning of the End

**_A/N: _**Hi! What's up everyone? I'm pretty good- very bored though. I mean all I do is sit home and watch movies and write all day. Although- that's not really a bad existence. Yeah- anyway, let me say that I am completely flabbergasted by your reviews! First of all, 90? For 9 chapters? That's astoundingly awesome! :D YAY! Okay…. Ummm….. What was I saying? Oh yeah, thanks for the reviews because they make me feel awesome and like writing. Which is why I am writing a sequel. Anyway, before I write your ear off, here is my chapter 10. Oh and by the way, get your handkerchiefs out. Cause this is gonna be a sad one. You don't want to get you keyboard wet now do you? Anyways….Here it is:

_**Disclaimer: **_NO!

…

**In My Life….Stuff Happens: Chapter 10: The Beginning of the End:**

I almost fell backwards onto the hard concrete when we landed.

As far as I was concerned, the trip through time took less than a microsecond. One second I was standing in front of the Beatles house in 1965 and before I could say anything, I found myself nearly falling towards the sidewalk. It wasn't like anything I had expected it to be like. The traveling through time, I mean. Usually in movies like_ Bill and Ted's Excellent Adventure, _you'd be able to see the winding and weaving circuits of time or like in _Back To The Future _where you'd be in the care and you'd be driving through time and then suddenly show up at your destination. But of course, what I only got was a little bit dizzy and the start of a very promising headache.

_Time travel, my ass._

Thankfully, Knox grabbed my arm and pulled me upright before I completely hit the pavement. I rubbed the back of my skull where the headache was threatening to explode from. I had failed to notice that we were standing in the middle of a crowded sidewalk and Knox, always impatient, grabbed my arm and yanked me over into a secluded alley. I half-growled, rubbing my arm where I was sure to have a bruise later on. Did he have to be go goddamn rough? For a moment we stood there in silence, him looking off in the distance and me looking at him, waiting for an answer. When he still didn't say anything, I crossed my arms and gave me foot a little stomp.

"Hello?" I said, the impatience in my voice poking through. "Is your plan to stand here for the rest of the day? I thought we were supposed to go start the mission, not take a little pit stop into some random alley-way!"

Knox slowly turned his head back to me and stared into my eyes for a few moments. I swear to God, I thought he was going to slap me again but he just let out a breath instead and in a low whisper he said,

"Look around."

I nodded and with a roll of my eyes, took a like step from the alley and back out onto the street. The first thing I was assaulted with was the harsh sunlight hitting me square between the eyes. I put my hand over my forehead so I could see better. The sidewalks on either side of the car-packed street was swarming with people going about their business. It was like a huge sea that could make anyone feel like a little fish in a big pond. Or more like a tiny little baby fish in the Atlantic Ocean. The sky scrapers were absolutely huge and tall- and not because I was short, either. Even a tall person would fell tiny in this city. I almost lost my breath for a moment, looking around. I knew exactly where I was. As I stepped back into the alley, I tried keeping my breath steady.

"We're here?" I asked in an uneven voice. I was getting nervous and I could feel my whole body starting to shake. Knox gave a brisk nod.

A business man in a suit walked by the opening to the alley and he threw his newspaper down on the ground. He was too busy looking over some sort of document in his hand to see that he missed the garbage bin by ten feet. I bend down and picked it up, my eyes falling on the date. I nearly dropped the paper to the floor. _December 7th__, 1980. _Whoa- wait a second. December 7th? Knox had brought us to the day before John's murder. I didn't know whether to laugh or cry. I had one full day to save him. Maybe I could do this after all.

"You brought us to the day before?" I asked, the smile spreading across my face like a knife across soft butter. I couldn't contain my happiness. I felt like I really had a chance to save him now.

"A letter was sent to John Lennon," Knox said in that same solemn voice with the expression to match. "It contained instructions for him to be in that coffee shop in ten minutes." Knox pointed one long, boney finger towards the other side of the street. I saw the small place he was pointing to.

I turned back to him excitedly. "John's going to be there? Now?"

"You must go to him. Speak with him."

"Speak with him?" I echoed, now the uncertainty creeping back into my happy mood. I took a deep breath. "What am I gonna say to the guy? Do I tell him?"

Knox shook his head. "No! You cannot tell him!"

"Then how the fuck am I supposed to save him from dying if I can't tell him anything?"

My voice rose a few octaves when I said that and Knox grabbed me, putting on hand over my mouth and slamming me against the wall. I didn't struggle but I was seething inwardly. I had enough of this slamming into walls and getting slapped around by this guy. If he didn't hold my ticket home, I'd let gladly introduce his family jewels to my ready knee. But since I knew I would never do that to a guy- well unless he _really _pissed me off, I stopped and waited until Knox removed his hand from my mouth. When he did, I narrowed my eyes at him.

"Was that really fucking necessary?" I asked in annoyance. Knox's eyes darkened considerably and I shrunk back a bit. I really could be too sarcastic and defiant sometimes. I blew out a breath and held up my hands in surrender. "I'm sorry. I just don't know how to go about this."

"Just go. What you need to say and do will come to you."

He pulled me away from the wall and gave me a little nudge to the edge of the alley-way opening. I stood there for a few moments, feeling like I was on the edge of a great precipice. Should I take a step forward or like a coward, should I step back and not continue on? I turned around for once last piece of advice from Knox but he had already disappeared. _The bastard, _I thought. He was leaving me alone to start probably the most important task I would ever be given in my entire life. But it was now or never. If I didn't go through with this, then John wouldn't get a second chance at life. How many times had I lay awake at night, thinking of ways that his death could be prevented? And now I had that chance. I wasn't about to give it up now.

I quickly crossed the street and then stood for a few seconds at the coffee shop entrance. I took a deep breath, blew it out slowly and pushed open the door.

….

**(1965- Paul POV)**

It was all very sad around the house after we had said goodbye and watched Quinn leave. It was silly maybe, getting this hung up over a girl who we still didn't know too well. And she was a girl from the future no less. But I couldn't help but thinking that she had changed our lives somehow; in a small or big way I wasn't sure and I don't think I would ever find out. There was thing that I knew for sure, though and that was how Quinn had changed John. Of course, he was still the same person. In some way that was good and in others, it wasn't. I can remember when he told us about his future.

_We were eating a quick breakfast before heading over to the studio that morning. It was very early and we decided not to bother Quinn. John had been acting strange for a while- more than his normal strangeness. He wasn't making his normal jokes or laughing at something. For that matter, he was hardly even talking. Knowing John for years, the other lads and I knew that John could sometimes fall into certain moods. It wasn't always the best thing to try and get him to talk when he was in a said mood. But that morning, as I sat there, I saw something in his eyes. There was something there that said that he wanted to be asked. He wanted what was bothering him to be known. But he would never say anything himself. I understood right away. After all, he was practically a brother to me. _

"_What's wrong, Johnny?" I asked. He poked around at his breakfast and shrugged. "Well?"_

"_Nothing." He looked at me and I could see the defences going up already. He wasn't one to share his feelings easily- no matter if he actually wanted to or not. I didn't believe it and neither did George or Ringo. He tried smiling then. "There's nothing wrong. Bug off!"_

"_Don't fucking start, John!" I said, snapping a bit. I regretted it immediately and spoke a bit softer. "You can't get by us, you know. Just tell us."_

_John sighed and shook his eyes. "Remember how Quinn fucked up and said two of us are dead in her time?" I nodded._

"_What about it?" George asked, chewing on some toast. Ringo, like myself, silently waited for John's answer._

"_Well," John said, sitting back. His gaze was traveling around the room, not quite looking at us. "I asked her the first night if it was me. I knew it was. I just wanted to hear her say it." He laughed but in the most bitter way possible. "Turns out I was right. I snuck into her room the other day. And I found a book on us. I read it."_

_The kitchen was silent; so silent that if one of us dropped a pin, it would make a deafening sound. The three of us were focused on him, waiting for him to keep going. I wanted to ask him what he had read but deep down, I think I knew. I wasn't sure how or if it was even real, but I felt what he was going to say next. George, always a little more impatient asked what I was hesitant to. I held my next breath, hoping that what I was feeling in my gut was only in my own mind. But I could see it on John's face._

"_I started flipping through it," John said with another bitter chuckle. He was twisting and untwisting his hands together in his lap. He was gripping them so hard, his knuckles were beginning to turn white. "I flipped to my own section. Guess what it said?"_

"_What, John?" Ringo asked when John didn't continue. John laughed again, but it was a scary laugh. It was humourless and filled more with fear than anything else._

"_It said 'John Lennon, murdered.'," he said and I felt like a bomb had just gone off. George and Ringo looked equally shocked. John scoffed. "Can you imagine that?"_

_It was silent again. Neither George, Ringo or myself could say anything. What could you possibly say to that? How could I react to the news that my best friend would be murdered and that I could nothing to stop it? It was like a horrible blow to the stomach, one that sucked all the air out of your lungs and made it difficult to breathe. I could tell that George and Ringo were feeling the exact same way. And then there was John. He wasn't angry, he wasn't sad; he just was. He sat their expressionless._

"_John-" I began but he cut me off._

"_No," he said. "It doesn't matter. I mean, hey- everyone dies, right? I guess I'll be popped off by some loony!" He tried t laugh, make a joke out of it but none of us laughed. "Oh come on! It's nothing!"_

"_It's not nothing, John," Ringo said. He looked like he was almost near tears. "It's serious."_

_John shrugged and stood. "Like I said, everyone dies." He glanced over at the clock. "We better go if we're going to make it on time. You know how Brian gets. I'll leave a note for Quinn."_

_And with that, he disappeared upstairs without another word about it. The three of us sat at the table, staring at each other dumbly. We were still trying to make sense of what just happened and how John could be so blatant about it. But I suppose that was John. Ever since I'd known him, he had always been the same way. You'd have to pry him open to get at what he was really feeling. That's the only thing that really bugged me about him. If he could get rid of all that he had stored inside of him, he'd have less anger in him._

"_What do you suppose we do then?" George asked. He looked very shocked and rattled by this whole thing. Ringo looked cooler; he was always better at keeping calm at things. _

"_What can we do?" he said and I shrugged._

"_It's John," I reasoned. "You know we can't do anything. When he's ready, he'll talk." I looked over at the clock, realizing the time. "John's right, we gotta go. Let's not worry about it now boys."_

_George and Ringo agreed and I followed them up the stairs. Needless to say, I still had the feeling in the pit of my stomach. _

I brought myself back to reality when I heard George calling out my name. The eggs I were frying were almost burned now and I quickly pulled them from the stove. George was looking at me with an amused expression. I chuckled but still couldn't help feeling the small anger gnawing at me. George was like a younger brother to me and sometimes I still looked at him like a kid. When he laughed at me sometimes, I couldn't help feel a bit angry. But I pushed that out of the way.

"How's it going, George?" I asked tiredly. I hadn't gone to bed until late last night. When John was in a mood, he usually wanted to write music. He brought me along with him.

"Fine," George answered with a yawn. "John isn't so good though."

I put the ruined eggs down and turned to look at him. "What do you mean?"

"I went to wake him up and he yelled at me," George explained. He had a slightly hurt expression on his face. I knew he knew John's temper by know but he was a sensitive lad and things bothered him.

"I'll go up and talk to him," I said, leaving the eggs on the counter and giving George a pat on the back as I walked past him.

I said 'good-morning' to Ringo as I passed him on the stairs and then made my way to John's room. The door was closed which already was a bad sign. John always slept with the door open, not caring who saw him. Of course, this rule was bent when either of us had a woman over but I knew he was alone in there. I placed my hand on the door knob and took a deep breath. A few seconds later, I walked into the room. John was lying on the bed with his back to the door and the sheets twisted all around him. His eyes were open and he was staring blankly at the wall. I know he heard me but he didn't move.

"John," I said as I walked towards him. I stood at the end of the bed. He didn't answer. I bent down and smacked him in the leg. "John!"

"Go the fuck away!" John growled and kicked my hand off his leg. I was kind of used to this behaviour from him from time to time but it still got me mad. I grabbed the covers from him and yanked them off.

"Get up John!"

John angrily cursed at me and jumped up from the bed. He came to stand in front of me and I braced myself. He wouldn't hit me, I knew that but I still took a step backwards. I knew that Quinn leaving had affected him on top of him constantly thinking of his death. I had to patient with him but it was starting to become a little harder than I thought.

"Can't you leave me the fuck, alone?" he practically screamed. His face was flushed with anger. But I saw the small bit of pain in his eyes. Was it possible that he could get this effected by such a young girl? He was married with a child for Christ's sake!

"No, I can't!" I snapped, crossing my arms over my chest. "You need to stop acting like this!"

"Like what?" John asked, not bothering to hide his temper.

"We are all upset that Quinn left," I said softly and his anger immediately lessened. His face took on a softer expression and he seemed to calm down. He turned and sat on the edge of his bed. I followed suit. It was quiet for a few seconds before he spoke.

"It's not just that," he said, running a hand through his messy hair. He sighed and reached to grab a cigarette. He offered me one and then lit it for both of us. He spoke between drags. "I'm just…. I don't know, Paul."

"Don't know what?"

John shrugged. "When I found out that I was going to…. Die….it bugged me. It rattled me, Paul."

I nodded although I couldn't possibly understand. "I know, John. I can imagine. But you don't know for sure…."

John chuckled the bitter chuckle. "It was written in stone, Paul. It might as well been, anyway. There's no escaping it."

I nodded, not knowing what else to say. John finished his cigarette and stubbed it out in the ashtray. He stood and walked to the other side of the room where his guitar leaned against the wall. He picked it up and sat down on the chair near the window. I stubbed out my own cigarette and leaned back against the wall.

"You write something new John?"

He nodded and began to play. I closed my eyes and listened. If he was playing music, I knew he'd be all right. His voice was the only thing that filled the room.

"_Help! I need somebody. Help! Not just anybody. Help! You know I need someone. Heeelp!"_

I nodded my head slightly to the music. It was beautiful….

…

**(1980- Quinn POV)**

I was shaking full on by the time I stepped into the restaurant. I had to hold my hand against the wall to make sure I didn't flying into a waitress or something. I scanned the entire place- slowly like you see them do in the movies. It felt like everything was happening in slow motion too which was really weird. It only elongated the feeling of dread and worry I had knotted in my stomach. Then all of a sudden, there he was. My breath stopped when I saw him. He was considerably older and had longer hair. He was sitting in the back booth, staring into his coffee. I made my way over and slid into the booth. With more confidence then I felt I said,

"Well if it isn't the one and only John Lennon!"

John looked up and his eyes nearly bugged out of his head. I had to laugh out loud at how funny his expression was. It must have been such a shock to him to see me. I mean, sure it had only been a few minutes for me but for him, it had been fifteen years. It was weird to think about and kind of hurt my head so I didn't bother thinking of it further. I sighed and waited for John's voice to come back to him.

"Quinn?" he finally said. He was still looking a bit freaked.

"The one and only," I said with a chuckle. "I know, it's crazy seeing me here."

"How- how did you get here?," John asked. He was looking more confused by the minute. "The last time I saw you was fifteen years ago…."

I nodded. "Fifteen years ago for you. But for me- well, technically I just arrived here from 1965 about twenty minutes ago."

"Fuck!" He was staring at me in disbelief. It was weird seeing him so much older, especially coming from having spent a week with his younger self. I was dying inside, thinking that this was the day before he was supposed to die. I shuddered.

"I know, it's nuts!"

John suddenly looked confused. "Why are you here? You said you had to go back home."

_Oh shit. What the fuck was I supposed to say now? Relax Quinn and think!_

I blurted the first thing that popped into my mind. "I wanted to see you. Umm… yeah, I wanted to see you older. I just wouldn't cooperate unless I was brought here."

John smirked. "Oh really? Couldn't resist huh?"

I laughed. "Oh dude, please. You're like forty! And please don't tell me you're still a man-whore!"

"I am not," he said with a loud chuckle. He still had that twinkle in his eyes and damn, he was still really cute. "Well… at least I hope I'm not."

"Well good," I said with a smirk. "Because shit man, you did some pretty whorish things you know?"

"I know." He was smiling sheepishly and I shook my head. This John was so much more happy and more at peace. I didn't sense any anger coming from him like I did when I was with his younger self. It made me happy to see him like this.

"Can I say a few things?"

John raised his eye-brows but nodded. He already looked amused. I grinned mischievously and did a little evil laugh in my mind. This little rant I was about to impart on him would be awesome. I took a deep breath and began.

"First of all," I began with a stern look on my face. "The Jesus beard? Really? John, you looked gross. And being all mean to each other after you guys broke up the Beatles? Shame on you! And honestly dude, the _Let It Be _period? You guys were so fucking mean to each other! God!" I took a breath and waited a few seconds. The look on his face made me laugh but I struggled to keep a straight face. "All right… now, the good things. The rest of your albums with the Beatles? Fucking brilliant, man! And _Imagine? _That is amazing! Okay- I'm done."

John blinked a few times as I struggled to catch my breath. Then, a few seconds later, he burst into laughter. It brought back some memories of the old John and his awesome but sometimes scary psychotic laughter. I couldn't help but join and pretty soon, we were gasping for air and wiping tears from our faces. This was just too amazing for words. I was having such a great time with John, laughing happily.

"That was damn funny," he said when he finally caught his breath. "I missed hearing your rants. And for the record, I do regret the beard. It did make me look a little weird, didn't it?"

"Weird?" I echoed, nearly spitting out the drink I had ordered. "You looked like scary Jesus! Okay, imagine having a calendar with pictures of you and that beard? Downright scary it is!"

John laughed. "Well, I'm sorry!"

I started to laugh but the feeling of dread hit me again and I stopped. John looked a bit worried but I told him it was just a bit of stomach pain. I suspected it was Knox, bothering me and reminding me that I was here on a mission. And I knew the mission wasn't catching up or yelling at John for growing that God-awful beard. I mean honestly, he looked so fucking scary! So here it was, the moment I had to try to find a way to save him. I quickly went over what I knew about the say John was killed. He went out during the day and came home at night weher he was murdered by that fucking bastard who shall remain nameless- like Voldemort. Although, Voldemort was way cooler. Then….

LIGHTBULB!

If I could get him away from his house at the time he was supposed to die, then he wouldn't be there when he who shall remain nameless tried to kill him. Now all I had to do was get John away from his house and to somehow get the police to arrest the bastard who was waiting to kill him. And I think I had the way to do it.

"John," I said suddenly and he snapped attention. He had been absentmindedly reading the dessert menu on the table. "Umm… I have to go right now."

"Do you have to?" he asked a bit sadly. "You should come back to the house with me. You can meet Yoko."

_Ha, no thanks. Okay, I didn't hate her or anything. But I didn't really fancy going back to his apartment and watching him swoon and stuff._

"No," I said with a smile. "But no thanks. I really do have to go. But how about we meet tomorrow? Like- at night?"

John thought for a moment. He looked somewhat conflicted. "Well… uh… I have to do an interview tomorrow. And uhh… a photo shoot. Then I'm going to be at the studio. I think I should be home around ten 'o' clock."

_NO! NO! RED FLAG! NOT GOOD!_

"Uh… well… umm…" I was desperately trying to find something to say. He couldn't come home on time or else he'd die! "Listen… um… why don't you come at nine? Umm only because I have to go back to 2010 at ten-fifteen."

It was stupid, I know but it was all I had. John seemed to think about it for a moment, working out a few things in his head. I held my breath as he did so and when he finally broke out into a wide smile, I let the trapped breath go.

"That's fine," John said with that Lennon grin. I couldn't help but melt. _Yes, he was 40 and I was 19 but…. It was still John Lennon! _"Do you know where I live, then?"

I couldn't help but grin. "Obviously, John."

"Good. Then, tomorrow night. Nine 'o' clock; meet me outside?"

I nodded and stood. "Sounds like a plan."

John stood up and we hugged. It was a tight, warm hug like the one he had given me in 1965. He stood over me, smiling down at me for a moment. I wondered for a spilt second if he would kiss me but I shook that out of my head. But he was forty and that just didn't happen. So I settled for another hug instead, practically squeezing him really tight. He laughed when I finally let him go. I wanted to hug him extra long, just in case I failed.

_No, Quinn, please don't think about it. You will not fail!_

"So, tomorrow?" John said with a smile.

I smiled and nodded. "You better believe it."

And with that, we said our good-byes. I left him sitting back in his booth as I walked out of the coffee shop. I looked across the street into the alley Knox and I had first arrived in and I saw him standing there. I didn't think about it or ask any questions, I just crossed the crowded street and walked into the alley. Knox looked a bit disturbed, like he was hearing something that I couldn't hear. I predicted that he was getting instructions from the powers that be. Or the time travel group he was a part of. I stood, catching my breath from having dodging a yellow cab across the street.

"That was good," Knox finally said and I jumped. Him suddenly talking out of nowhere scared me. "But it's time to go."

I stared at him with my jaw practically hitting the ground. _Was this guy fucking serious? _I had just gotten here and was only starting to get my plan into action. And Knox wanted to leave? Oh, _hell _no!

"Go where?" I asked incredulously. I was _this _close to blowing my top and going all psycho-bitch on him. I wasn't mean but when I got over-stressed or over-pissed- oooh you better watch out!

"We are going to tomorrow."

_Wait- what? _

"We are going to tomorrow," Knox repeated, no-doubt reading my mind. God, I really fucking hate it when he did that. I mean, there is such a thing as privacy! Knox cleared his throat to get my attention. "There is no point in staying and waiting an entire night and day. We will time travel and arrive tomorrow night, an hour before you have arranged to meet John."

"What?"

I felt a little dizzy, then like the whole world was beginning to close in on me. It was all coming at me so fast and now that I knew I was going to the exact moment I was sent here to prevent, it scared me. Knox could sense how I was feeling and he grabbed onto my arm to steady me. I looked up at him, suddenly having a strange feeling of calm falling over me. I looked up at Knox and I could feel my eye-brows knit together in confusion.

"What the hell was that?" I asked, the strange calm making me feel funny.

Knox almost smiled. "We have powers other than time travel. We can read thoughts and control emotions."

_Okay, was it just me or did his time travel group have the powers of the Cullen family? I mean Edward and Jasper…. Pretty soon I'm gonna find out that he has super strength and can see the future. _

_Oh God, that'd be weird._

"Give me your hand," Knox said with a gruff tone. "We have to hurry if we want to get there on time."

I nodded nervously and put my hand into his. In order for me to save John, I had to get there on time. I needed to call the police and convince them to arrest the idiot bastard who is going to kill John and then I had to get John safely away from his house until December 9th. Because if John made it to December 9th, then he would be saved and I would have completed the mission successfully. And I had to, for John. I closed my eyes and braced myself for the time travel.

BAM!

I landed against the wall, hard. I was coughing and sputtering, trying to catch my breath because it had been knocked out of me. At first, I was disoriented. The time travel was almost instantaneous and painless but for some reason, I was thrown into the wall instead of landing on my feet. I looked around crazily but I couldn't find Knox. I stood suddenly and looked around.

_Holy fuck! OH MY GOD!_

I was completely and totally, 100% on my own.

It was completely dark outside and I found myself in another alley. I ran out, frantically searching around for something that looked familiar. I almost screamed out loud when I didn't recognize anything. I was totally lost and the clock was working against me. I saw a cop car parked on the street and I thanked God as I ran toward it. The burly, moustached police man that sat inside was munching a doughnut and reading a magazine. I know I must have looked completely crazed but I couldn't worry about my looks right now. I had one thing on my mind- saving John.

"Officer!" I said, my breath ragged. "Please- what- what time is it?"

The officer looked startled but he saw the desperation in my eyes. "It's… 9:15."

"What?" I almost fainted. I wanted to scream, to throw-up but I had to hold it together. With renewed determination, I banged on the car door, causing the officer to jump. "How far is the Dakota building?"

"About…. Ten blocks that way," replied the officer, pointing in the direction I should go. I almost screamed and fainted. I could have stayed and asked for a ride but I didn't have time for the argument and I didn't have time to explain.

"Officer! Get on your radio thing! There's a man… at the Dakota building…. He has a gun! He's going to kill someone! "

The officer looked at me like I had lost all of my marbles. But I was so past desperate that I screamed shrilly and kicked at the car door. It only scared him more and he was beginning to get out of the car to try and restrain me. I screamed again and took off like a shot down the street. Running and catching John before the evil bastard was my only hope now. I regretted it now that I had not been much of a runner. But I was not going to give up because I could barely breathe and my lungs were on fire. I had to save John.

As I was running, a multitude of thoughts were barrelling through my mind. I thought about John young and how vibrant and amazing he had been. I thought about how he played music and wrote songs and lived life. I thought about him when he was happy and how amazing it was talking to him in the restaurant. And then I thought of when he was stoned and he had cried because he was scared. I thought about him having to live his life knowing that one day he was going to not only die but get murdered. I thought about the look on his face when I told him that he was going to die and I knew I couldn't let it happen. I would not let it happen.

As I rounded the last corner after the tenth block, I saw the Dakota house come into view. I almost cried with relief for a second, just because I had gotten there. But then I saw it. And I almost stopped dead in my tracks. But I still had to press on. If I screamed or got there in time, John would be okay. I ran and ran and ran and I was only about fifteen feet away. The evil bastard who shall remain nameless lifted his arm and pointed the gun at John. John didn't even have time to react.

"JOHN! STOP! NOOOOOOOOO!"

BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG!

The man moved backwards into the shadows and John collapsed to the ground and slowly crawled away into his house. I fell to my knees, gasping and crying and hyperventilating. It was over, he was dead! I failed. I couldn't move, I couldn't breathe. I felt my breathing getting more ragged and suddenly, I couldn't breathe at all. I fell forward into the darkness.

And all I saw was black.

…

**A/N: **Holy shit. This was the longest and hardest chapter to write for this story. And for the record, I am so sorry for having it end this way. As much as I would love to save John, I knew it just couldn't be done. It did physically hurt to write this chapter and now I feel completely drained. There is only one more chapter left and then this story is finished. But don't fret, the sequel with the Beatles coming forward in time will come soon. Anyway, please review and tell me what you think. And no yelling, okay? Thanks. Review. - Addie


	11. And In The End

**A/N: **Hello everyone- hopefully you still all like me after that last chapter? :P I know it was sad, okay- but it was just the way the story had to go. It was very sad to write and I was totally drained afterward but- I think it was a good chapter, well I hope it was. Anyway- here is the last chapter of this story. I know, very sad and I can't believe I'm ending it already. This was my favourite story to write and you guys here in this section are the best reviewers I have ever come across. So- thank you so much for all your reviews and I hope this last chapter is good and ends off on a happy note. And let me just say... THANK YOU FOR THE 100 REVIEWS! THAT'S AWESOME!

Oh, and just one little thing about the sequel. I do want to write it, I really do. I'm just not too sure about it right now. I don't have enough ideas for it and I don't feel too confident about it. This story seems pretty complete and I don't know about ruining it with a sequel. Tell me what you guys think. If you really want it then I will write it. Just not right away. I have another project for this section in the works so probably after that is finished. Oh and **CrazyCatie**- your mention is in here as promised. Anyway, thanks again and here is chapter 11, the final chapter.

**Disclaimer: **Ok, since it's the last chapter, I will write a nice disclaimer. No, I do not own the Beatles, Across The Universe or anything else I may use in this story. I only own Quinn, Knox and my other characters.

**In My Life….Stuff Happens: Chapter 11 (Epilogue): And In The End….**

…

I opened my eyes slowly. I knew I was lying flat on my back and all I saw when I looked up was fluffy white clouds. All around me were tall sunflowers and the sun that was falling over me was so warm and inviting. I saw a little butterfly floating over me and I sat up real slow, taking in my surroundings. I was in a huge sunflower field with lush green trees all around and a big white house at the other end of the field. It was absolutely beautiful. Then suddenly, I remembered what had happened. I had tried to save John but I failed. I thought it strange that I wasn't freaking out or that I didn't even feel bad- instead, I just felt waves and waves of peace wash over me. It was like everything- my life, my adventures in 1965 and the mission I failed- were detached and I wasn't really feeling anything about them.

"Quinn…."

It was a strange whisper calling out my name and it was the wind in trees, brushing past me and flowing all around. I stood up slowly and followed the butterflies that were floating all around me. I couldn't help but giggle at the thought of me running through a field of flowers, chasing butterflies. It was something you see in movies and at any other time, I would feel a bit stupid but- there was peace in me and pure joy. It was like true hippie-ness. I kind of liked it.

"Quinn…."

The name was still like wind breezing past me but there was more urgency in it this time. I suddenly was taken over by a feeling of desperation- I _needed _to get over to that house. I started to run faster now and now when I finally reached the house, I felt another wave of peace wash over me. It was unlike myself to feel like this- I was just so…. Happy. I don't mean that I never was happy it's just that it was unnatural to feel _this _happy. But as soon as I stepped through the white door, all the peace and happiness disappeared and I felt like more of myself again. The pain of failing the mission and watching John die was starting to creep in but I pushed it down. I had to find out where the hell I was first.

The whole inside of the house was white. I mean every single solitary thing in that house was white. It was so bright that I had to shield my eyes at some points while I was walking through. It was so serene and so silent throughout this white house but I felt uneasy. What the hell was I doing here? The last thing I remember was collapsing onto the side walk at night- in 1980. But now- this place didn't look familiar at all. What time was I in now? Was I even on Earth anymore?

_Holy shit. _

Was I dead?

"You're not dead."

I looked up the winding white staircase and gasped a little bit when I saw who was standing at the top of it. There, dressed in all white and- looking rather good might I add- was John. Yes, John Lennon. I expected him to be older but he looked no older than twenty four years old. And this might be the wrong time to mention it but- damn, he looked really sexy. He laughed at me like he had heard my thoughts and I felt myself blush a little bit. I put my hand on the cold and white marble banister and slowly walked up the stairs. When I reached the top, John looked down at me with that sexy Lennon grin.

"John?"

John leaned against the banister on his elbow. "Yes?"

"Umm… aren't you supposed to be dead?"

John sighed and shrugged, still keeping that grin. He took my hand and led me down the hallway. "Yeah. But that's a thing of the past."

_Umm.. Okay? _

John led me through the last door on the right and stopped when we got through the door. We are in yet another white room but this one had comfortable-looking couches and chairs. I sat down on the couch against the wall and John sat cross-legged next to me. We stayed like that for a few moments, staring at each other in silence. But it wasn't uncomfortable- it was more peaceful. But something was tugging at me and I couldn't ignore it any longer. I took in a breath and let it out slowly. John was waiting, as if he knew what I was going to say.

"John- I'm sorry."

"For what?"

"John," I said, a bit of annoyance creeping in. I shook my head and breathed in and out again. "I failed. I was supposed to save you but instead I watched you die."

John nodded. He didn't look sad only a little regretful. "I know. But it's ok. I was supposed to die, I guess. It was a long time ago now, Quinn. I'm happy."

"I'm glad," I said with a smile. I was glad that he was finally happy. Then a sudden thought hit me and I felt scared. "Oh my God! I am dead!"

John laughed and I crossed my arms. "You are not dead, I told you already. You got such a hard head!" I felt myself smile and he chuckled again. "This is heaven, yes. Or well what you see of it. But you aren't dead. Unconscious, yeah but not dead. You just needed to see me to know that I'm all right so you won't feel so bad."

I nodded. It made sense. Although I don't think I would ever feel fully all right with it. I had a chance to save John and I failed at it. But seeing him happy and in heaven, apparently was something that made me really happy. It was good that he was there and that he was finally at peace with himself. Although there was still one thing that confused me. John died when he was forty years old but the John that was sitting before me was a young John. He looked like he had just stepped straight out of _A Hard Day's Night. _Very very sexy might I say. Again.

"What?" he asked when he noticed me staring at him.

"John, you died at like forty years old. Why am I seeing you so young?"

"Cause you can look like whatever you want up here," I heard a voice say. I looked around and saw a young George walk around the corner, eating a piece of chicken. He looked about 21 and was also dressed in white. My jaw almost hit the floor. So this was heaven!

"Hello Quinn," he said with a smile and wave. He sat down on the white chair across from us. I was shocked speechless. "Nice to see you."

"Oh my George!" I said and the shook my head. I had heard that phrase too often and it had slipped out. "I mean- oh my God! I'm so sorry you died!"

George just smiled. "It's ok, Quinn. Like John said, we are happy up here."

I nodded. I was beginning to feel a little bit better. "You know," I said. "All the times I imagined you guys up here, I imagined you guys happy and young and hanging out with each other."

John and George shared a look and laughed. I couldn't help but chuckle to myself. They both looked so cute and radiantly happy. It was almost as if they were glowing- not like in Twilight (which is cool, shut-up!) - but more like they had a glow all around them. I swear, I thought they were going to sprout angel winds any second. Which would be totally cool because I'm pretty sure they were angels. Angels who rocked out on their guitars and sang like there was no tomorrow.

"You imagined us up here?" John asked. He looked interested. Even George put down his chicken to listen.

"Yeah," I said, nodding. "My friend Catie and I just to talk about. I used to say how I would profess my love to you. Shut-up, John," I said when he started to open his mouth. He laughed and I continued. "Catie said how she would gush to George how she loved him and how he was like her best friend. And umm… she would tell John to- umm go fall in a well cause she hates you."

George laughed and blushed and John raised his eye-brows. He didn't look hurt or angry, just a bit amused. I shrugged and laughed. Catie could always be a little weird about John. I put my hand on John's shoulder.

"Don't worry," I said with a grin. "She likes you in her own way."

John nodded and for a few seconds we were silent. And then I suddenly felt the strangest feeling- like something or something was calling me and I felt a sudden pull. I was being called and pulled away. John and George shared a look; they knew exactly what was happening to me. I stood, trying to shake the feeling off but it was stubborn and insisted on staying. John and George stood too.

"It's time for you to go," John said. He looked a little bit sad about it. He came forward to hug me and I tightly hugged back. George did the same.

"We'll miss you," George said and John agreed.

"I will miss you too," I said, trying to hold my sadness back.

"Just remember," John said, smiling at me. "You didn't fail. Just because you didn't save me doesn't mean anything. I'm happy here- happier than I could have ever been in life. And so is George. You remember that every time you feel sad all right?"

I nodded and wiped away the tear that had fallen. The last thing I remembered was John and George smiling at me. Then I started to fall backwards into the darkness again and I closed my eyes. The rest was all black.

…

This time my eyes snapped open and I sat up quickly. I was shocked at what I saw that I nearly fell back onto my pillow. I was in a white room with chairs and a TV monitor in the corner. I was sitting in a bed, wearing a stupid gown and attached to some machines to the right of me. I turned my head slowly and almost cried out when I saw Holly sitting in the chair next to my bed. She was curled up with her eyes closed and it looked like she had been there for a while. I felt my heart stop for a few seconds in my chest.

Oh. My. God.

Holly. Holly was my best friend. My best friend who lived with me in 2010! I don't know but I was back! And I was lying in a hospital bed. One look around the room told me that I had been lying here for a long while- maybe even a week or so. But if I was in the hospital- how was I in 1965 at the same time? _Son of a bitch! _It was a dream? Me going back in time and meeting the Beatles was only a dream? The whole fucking mission and Knox was a- dream? No, no I would NOT believe it. It was too fucking real to be a dream. I knew it wasn't. It couldn't be. Could it?

"You're awake?" I turned to look at Holly. She looked shocked and relieved. I guess she had woken up when I was in the midst of freaking out.

"Uhh… hi?" I offered with a half-smile. "What's going on?"

Holly cocked her head to the side. "You don't remember?"

I shook my head. "No. I just remember walking home from the mall." _And also getting transported to 1965, meeting the Beatles, hanging out with them and then going on a mission to save John Lennon and failing._

Holly looked shocked. "What? Quinn, you've been in this hospital for a week. You were hit by lightening when you were walking home."

_What the fuck?_

I didn't know what to do so I laughed. And kept laughing. I was in such disbelief that the laughter wouldn't stop. Holly was beginning to look scared and she stood, wanting to go get the doctor. I told her not to and made her sit back down. Eventually, I stopped laughing.

"Are you okay?"

I looked at her and nodded. "I'm sorry. I just can't believe it. It sounds too weird to be true. I thought- I mean- I had- a dream, I guess. It seemed so real."

"It's all right," said Holly, giving me a reassuring pat on the arm. "The doctor told me to get him when you woke up. I'll send him in."

"Okay."

Holly left the room and I fell back onto my pillows. This was all making my head spin and I didn't like it. I was trying to deny the possibility that my Beatles adventure was really just a dream. It couldn't have been could it? I mean, you don't feel things in dreams and they aren't in full Panavision colour either. I was starting to get a headache trying to figure this all out. When the door opened and the doctor walked in, I knew for sure that my adventure wasn't a dream. And I had to restrain myself from throwing the heart monitor machine at him.

"You," was all I could growl.

Knox stepped forward. He looked weird in a doctor's uniform but I wasn't in the mood to make jokes. "I know you are upset."

"Upset?" I sat up, angrily yanking out the IV from my arm. "UPSET? You left me! You brought me there an hour ahead! I couldn't reach him in time!"

Knox nodded solemnly. "Yes, I understand. But I had no control over the circumstances. There were complications and you arrived late because of it."

I huffed but sat back. "Fine. So basically, what you are saying is that John was meant to die all along?"

"Yes. As sad as it may be, John Lennon was meant to leave this world when he did."

"You couldn't have told me this before?" I asked incredulously. I crossed my arms over my chest, getting more angry by the minute.

"It was the point of the mission," Knox explained. I could see in his eyes that he was getting annoyed with me but his voice remained even. "John Lennon's death was one that many wished could be prevented. I explained this to you before. You failing to save him just confirms that he was in fact, meant to die."

I nodded. "I understand. It doesn't make it any less fair, though."

"Yes. It doesn't."

"So- it happened, then?" I asked. I knew it wasn't but being my typical paranoid self, I just had to make sure. I let out a long-held breath after Knox shook his head.

"There had to be an alibi back in this time," Knox explained. "An alibi for you. We couldn't just take you from this time with no explanation."

"So- you had me hit by lightening?"

"No. That was what it looked like. You were simply just made unconscious."

I sighed. "That's- better. I guess. Is it over? I mean, is it really over?"

Knox nodded once again.

"Will I- remember it all?" I asked tentatively.

"I could make you forget."

"NO!" I screamed. I vigorously shook my head. There was no way in hell I wanted to forget my week spent with the Beatles. Even if it meant having the image of John dying in my head for the rest of my life.

"One question," I said. It had been something that was kind of bugging me since I woke up. Knox motioned for me to go ahead. "Okay- umm… what was with the heaven thing? I mean, did I actually see them? Or did I dream that one?"

"It was real," Knox replied with a half-smile. "We decided to let you see them. Failing the mission and not saving John Lennon was hard enough you. We wanted you to see that it hadn't been in vain. That John Lennon is fine outside of this existence. And George Harrison as well."

"Thank you."

Knox nodded and headed for the door. He paused when he reached it and turned around to look at me. "My work here is done. You should be released soon. You did good on the mission. Be proud of what you accomplished."

He was gone before I could begin to form a reply. And he didn't use the door either. He simply just disappeared. I let out a long sigh as I settled back into the bed. It was no point getting angry or even sad- it was over and at least I would always have my memories. _My wicked awesome memories. _I looked up as Holly walked in and greeted her with the best smile I could. She was relieved to see that I wasn't laughing like a maniac again and looked comfortable coming back to sit next to me.

"So-"

"You scared me," Holly said, cutting me off. "I mean, when I chased you down the street and found you on the ground- Oh God, I thought you were dead."

I offered my best smile. "Well, I'm not."

Holly scoffed. "Thank you, I can see that. The point is, you fucking scared me!"

I nodded. "I know, I know. Umm- what about my parents?"

"I called them," Holly said with a nod. "The night you were brought here. I just sent them home this morning so they could rest. They are on their way over here now."

"Good, good."

"So," Holly said, leaning towards me with a grin. "What kind of dream did you have? You know, the one that was _so _real!"

I felt a wide grin spread across my face. "It was a Beatles dream." Holly looked slightly disappointed and sat back in her chair.

"Of course it was."

….

_**(A week later….)**_

I had finally convinced my parents that I was fine and that they could go back to work and leave me home alone again. For the first few days, I had to get used to living life in 2010 again. I was used to waking up and seeing the Beatles sitting at the kitchen table or seeing John standing at the end of my bed. It was really weird not to see them and of course, I couldn't tell anyone my feelings. If I did, I would probably be thrown into the nearest psych ward. But hey, at least the walls were padded and comfortable. I remembered my story that I had started writing about my experience back in 1965. I was going to finish it and put it up on the fan fiction website. I had a feeling that the fans there would get a kick out of it. Of course they would think that it's only a story that sprung for my imagination. But- I would know the truth. I would always remember.

That day I was sitting in my room, watching some random game show on TV when the doorbell rang. I ran down the stairs and opened the door, surprised to see a delivery man waiting there with a huge package tucked under his arm. I was even more surprised when he told me it was for me.

"This is a weird package," he said and I cocked my head to the side.

"What do you mean?" I asked, signing the release form.

"It's been in our post office since 1971," the man explained. I felt my jaw fall open and I had to use my hand to physically close it. "We took bets in the office to see if the person would actually be here."

"Here I am," I said shakily. "Thanks."

I closed the door and manoeuvred the book under my arm as I tried walking up the stairs back to my room. I placed it down on my bed and sat in front of it. I eagerly grabbed some scissors from my desk and sliced the top of the box open. Underneath the bubble wrap- which I would have fun popping later- were a collection of records. Every single Beatles record ever made. And I mean everything, from _Please Please Me _to _Let It Be. _I was in complete and total awe of what I saw in front of me. There was only one person who could have sent this. But no, it couldn't be. I carefully took the envelope from the top of the record stack and slowly opened it. It was old and yellowed with age. With shaking heads and a shaking voice, I read the letter.

_Quinn,_

_I guess you got back to your time all right. It was weird after you left. I guess I can admit that I was a little upset. You were something else- different that any bird I ever met before. And of course, you were completely in love with me. That helps the ego a bit. I guess you know what happened to us- all the albums we made, all the films we made. The break-up especially. But I guess it doesn't matter anymore to you. What's done is done, right? I just wanted to let you know that I never forgot about you. I know how much you loved us so I personally went out and bought ever Beatles album with the intention of mailing it to you. A tag with your information must have fallen from your bag when you were here. I kept it. I hope you got this. Just consider it a little gift, from me to you. (Pun intended). I took the time to autograph each record- something I knew you'd like. Just don't go making any money by selling them! But seriously, I just want you to know that I will never forget you. Even after I'm long gone. Just remember the time you spent with us. And never stop being a Beatles fan. Good luck in your future,_

_Love always,_

_John Lennon._

I had tears running down my face after I finished reading. Some parts made me laugh because I could totally hear John saying it in my mind. But it was so sweet and so thoughtful. I can't believe that I had made such an effect on him that even years after I left, he still thought about me. It gave me that kind of tingly, warm feeling. I gingerly took one of the records from the pile and brought it over to my record player. It was one of those ones that played records, CDs, tapes, the radio and had a plug for your iPod or MP3 player. I put the record in and put the needle on top of it. Soon, the sweet voice of John Lennon filled the room.

I lay down on my bed to listen to it. The beautiful sounds of _"It's Only Love" _filled my ears and I couldn't help but smile. I remembered when John sang it to me, saying that it was a song that I had inspired. Somehow, it made it sound so much more amazing and beautiful. I stared up into one of my many Beatles posters and let my mind wander. I thought about my adventure in 1965. I thought about the boys and how living with them was the most awesome experience I had ever had and probably ever would have in my entire life. I loved getting to know each and every one of them and seeing their personal selves as well as the ones that they showed to the public. And even though I had failed in the mission to save John, I wasn't sad. I knew that both he and George were all right and that they were happy. That's all I needed to know.

Overall, I had the best time of my life. I would cherish the memories forever. I would always remember the Beatles and I would never, ever stop loving them. I sighed happily as I listened to the music and stared up into the smiling faces on the poster. I felt a smile creep onto my face as the memories flooded my brain.

_It had been a hard day's night…._

…

**(THE END)**

**A/N: **And there you have it folks. This marks the end of my story. I want to thank you for all your wonderful reviews and for sticking with this story from the beginning. You guys were truly awesome and made this story extremely fun to write. I hope I can get the sequel out. Although like I said, I'm not too sure about it. Tell me what you guys think. And of yes, please review. Thank you, again! - Addie


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